


Desert Lungs

by levviewrites909



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blackwatch Era, Crushes, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Injuries, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Please read notes to clarify certain warnings, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-28 16:11:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 93,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10834734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levviewrites909/pseuds/levviewrites909
Summary: Jesse McCree thought he was dead when rumors of an Overwatch infiltration started to spread among the Deadlock Gang. It turned out that he had what Overwatch thought was "potential." He was spared the grim life of prison, and instead was asked to "get his shit together" and thrown into Blackwatch. He was more than happy to not be in prison, and soon found that he quite enjoyed being the very loose definition of a "hero." Freedom to do as he pleased (once he was off probation), free meals, actual pay... who could say no to that? Not to mention that he quite enjoyed the company of his new friends in Overwatch, and of course the fact that he found Gabriel Reyes to be incredibly hot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! I can't believe I'm actually writing again. It's been nearly a year since I've posted anything, and I'm absolutely ecstatic to finally post this! I've been working on the concept of this fic and the writing itself for ages, and I've finally polished the first chapter enough to post it!
> 
> This fic will mostly be my ideas and thoughts on what exactly happened before Overwatch fell, specifically focusing on the mystery that is Blackwatch. I've been obsessed with the whole concept, and figured that I might as well share with all of you some of my headcanons. This fic will include romance between McCree and Gabe, but I do not plan on it to be one of the main focuses, at least for a while. I want the fic to focus on McCree's relationships and friendships with everyone and how he developed and grew with Overwatch overall, as well as background lore and history with other characters and the eventual fall of Overwatch. I'm planning on this fic to be quite long, focusing a lot on lore and interactions between characters, with a very slow burning of the romance between Gabe and McCree. 
> 
> As for warnings, this fic will have other background ships, but I don't want to tag those specifically since they won't be the main focus. As of now, the only confirmed background relationship is between Ana and Reinhardt, but considering Reinhardt will barely be in the fic, I figured it wasn't worth tagging. Also, the past relationship between Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison is also heavily implied, but really the only reason it's important is because it makes the both of them low key bitter towards each other. Again, I felt as if tagging would just be misconceiving those that might be looking for Reaper76 fics. Another thing I wanted to mention is that at the very beginning of this fic, McCree is 17. Within the fic he will not be romancing ANYONE during the brief time he is 17. Like I said, this fic will be very long winded and so McCree will be an official adult when any sort of romance between him and Gabe starts to bloom. The warning for Major Character Deaths is because at the very end, as everyone knows, Ana, Gabe, and Jack "die" (assholes, lying to everyone). So I tagged it because I guess, other characters within the stories think they're dead. Mature rating will change to explicit when smut is added.
> 
> Like I said, this if my first time posting in a while, and so my writing might be a bit rusty. I don't really have a Beta reader, so I did my best reading over it to correct any weird grammar or sentence structure. Once I start writing more and developing this story, it will get way smoother. If you feel I should tag anything else or if you have any questions or suggestions, I would love to hear them! Enjoy :)

The sun was setting, a red haze settling over the canyon. Tall rocks stood proud and casted long shadows over old decrepit buildings in Deadlock Gorge, which was home to the infamous Deadlock Gang.

Jesse McCree submerged himself in a state of not quite sleep, relaxing as much as he could atop an old garage at the edge of a cliff. The view was gorgeous, somewhat nostalgic. The dry air that stuck in his throat was so familiar at this point that it just felt like home -- a sad, shitty home. Jesse thrived in the desert, with red dust coating his lungs and skin so thick it was practically resistant to the sun. 

He laid back in a sliver of shade the roof provided, using his old backpack as a lumpy pillow and his stetson as eye shade. His eyes were closed and he was wavering on the edge of wakefulness and sleep. Jesse was careful to stay in that place unless he was absolutely sure he wouldn't be gutted in his sleep, though today he was having trouble. 

He didn't get a lick of sleep the night before, too anxious about what would happen today. Spies for the Deadlock Gang had been tipped off about possible Overwatch interference, and the information they gave the Boss had everyone on edge. Everyone had gotten quite the speech about it, and the “speech” included Boss threatening every single one of them with a torturous death if they fucked up. A sort of tension hung in the air because, well, even if nobody fucked up there was no way in hell they could defeat an Overwatch strike team. 

Jesse heard whispers among members. Some of them were planning on surrendering, even if it meant jail time, or even execution down south. Jesse didn't want to get killed, he knew that for sure, but the thought of prison made his stomach churn. He was praying at this point that Overwatch might overlook where he was set up (supposed to be keeping watch), and he might be able to escape amidst the chaos of the attack. 

He had to keep put at that moment, though. If Deadlock saw him trying to make a run for it, well, he'd end up like Lil’ Timmy who tried the same thing this morning. He was younger than Jesse, and it was sad to have to watch his body getting thrown off the cliff just behind him. Cowards and traitors couldn't be forgiven if you were in Deadlock. The harsh ideals and subsequent punishments Deadlock dealt made the tattoo on his forearm itch with a sort of guilt.

Jesse’s consciousness was wavering at the brink of sleep at this point. His eyes refused to open, and he had a feeling that lifting his arms would be a challenge at this point. It wasn't safe, he knew, his gut was urgently telling him to open his eyes… But perhaps he would be okay for a few minutes.

Of course, by the time Jesse could hear and register the sound of definite footsteps clunking up the stairs behind him it was too late. His drowsiness was quite literally kicked out of him by a boot to his stomach, and his body crunched forward automatically in efforts to protect himself. The sudden motion made his hat fall to the side. 

He groaned in pain and looked up with wide eyes at his assaulter. One of the higher-ups in Deadlock stared back at him, a scowl on her dust-caked face. Her name was Sarah, but everyone knew her as the Boss’ nasty side bitch.  

“What the hell are you doing kid,” she growled. She looked absolutely fierce, and Jesse was immediately scared. He wasn't going to pretend not to be. Sarah was the one that threw Lil’ Timmy over the cliff this morning, the cliff that his back was to at that very moment. 

“Answer me you mutt!” Jesse suffered another hard kick to the stomach. He wondered if she had blades on the tips of her boots. 

“I- ‘M sorry ma’am. I f-fell ‘sleep. D-dunno what I was thinkin’,” Jesse stammered in reply, keeping his gaze carefully away from her eyes. Her eyes were nasty, bloodshot and yellow and capable of killing people with just a look. Jesse heard rumors about it, ones that he quite honestly didn't doubt. Some people had other nicknames for her, like Medusa.

“We ain’t keeping you alive for you not to be thinking,” she spat. “Everyone is on high alert while _you_  are taking a goddamn nap!” She promptly knelt down besides him and grabbed him by his hair, roughly pulling his head back and exposing his neck. His serape did nothing to protect him. 

He was shaking, staring up at the orange sky. There weren't many clouds out that day, just a few thin ones slowly creeping along. Sarah’s hard grip on his hair made it impossible for him to move his head in any other direction. She pressed her knee into his hip, putting all of her weight on it to make sure he couldn't move. 

This was it. He was dead. Jesse heard the telltale sound of a knife being pulled from its leather casing, and the sharp scrape drowned out the commotion blooming below. His heartbeat sounded like it was pounding in his ears, and he didn't even register the distant sound of gunshots. He felt cold metal pressed against his neck. _Oh God this is it_. He was dead. His body was gonna be chucked over the edge like Lil’ Timmy was before him. Despite his impending doom, he couldn't bring himself to try to struggle away. 

“Fucking idiot. The fighting’s already starting and you couldn't even warn us. Boss’d just want me to kill you now.” She pushed the blade harder into his throat and Jesse held his breath, too afraid to swallow. “You’re just a useless kid, it’d only be fair to put you outta your mis-” 

A shot went off,  this time one that Jesse could clearly hear. Suddenly the pressure on his head loosened and the blade was no longer threatening his life. Shocked, he scrambled back, pushing dead weight off of him. He was still breathing heavy, his brain not quite picking up on the fact that he wasn't about to die. At least at that very moment. He looked over at Sarah and saw that she was indeed dead, shot clean through the side of the head.

The sounds of the outside world came back to him. He registered screams and gunfire. The radio strapped to his belt was going off like crazy, screams and panicked commands. 

Jesse kept his head down as he crawled forward to the front of the roof. He peeked over and saw five figures. Three of them were grouped together and hanging back, taking out an ambush of Deadlock that were inching in from behind. The two in the front were taking on those that were in their way. Jesse’s eyes widened. Now was his time to leave. Now was his time to escape. 

He quickly backed away from the roof's edge, scrambling towards his backpack. He slung it over his shoulders and grabbed his hat, shoving it on his head crookedly as he scrambled to stand up. The tunnel was just to the left of the building, a bit of risky climbing on scaffolding would be his only escape. 

Jesse darted towards the other edge of the building, but was quickly halted by a bullet whizzing past the side of his face. He jumped back and landed on his ass. Another shot quickly followed, grazing his hat this time, and he quickly laid back flat on the roof. He heard another loud shot, and heard a bullet dink uselessly somewhere on the roof where he was at. A sniper was up somewhere that Jesse couldn’t see.

They had seen him, though, that much was clear. Climbing the scaffolding would get him killed. It would be easier to book it up the path back the way Overwatch came from. He could move faster and be harder to hit. It would be risky, running out in the open, right past the enemy, but he had no way to make it to the tunnel. 

He flipped over onto his belly and started a frantic army crawl towards the stairs at the back of the building. The sniper must’ve gotten distracted, because he got there easily, and once he was there he practically jumped down off the steps, rolling at the bottom to avoid major injuries. The roll wasn’t too graceful, however, and he found himself with a face full of dirt. He quickly brushed it off and pressed himself against the side of the building. There was a doorway to the garage besides him. He stayed put and listened carefully. Footsteps were approaching, boots clinking on hard cement in the garage. 

“Johnson said there was one of them around here, but she couldn’t quite get him.” The voice was rougher and higher pitched, out of breath. He heard the clicking of guns being reloaded.

Another voice, deeper and accented,  grunted in reply. “Take care of him then. Meet back up with us by the warehouse.”

“Yes, commander.” There was shuffling of clothing, the person must’ve saluted. 

Jesse listened and heard a pair of footsteps walk away, while the other approached. He held his breath and readied himself, then jumped around the corner and into the doorway. 

The Overwatch agent was surprised, but quickly recovered and raised their gun to Jesse’s head. Jesse reached into his pocket and threw down his flashbang, a loud pop and a blinding light was omitted. 

The agent yelped and Jesse emptied six bullets into them in quick succession. The agent screamed in pain, and fell to the floor, and Jesse turned and quickly booked it up towards the path. It wasn’t too steep of a climb, nicely cut out into the canyon for convenient travel if someone didn’t want to go on the main road. It might’ve even been used for hiking tours back when this place was a tourist attraction. 

The second he was out of cover he heard gunshots, felt them fly past him, barely missing. He ducked into safety behind a tall rock, keeping low and pausing to recover his breath. He had no damn idea where that stupid sniper was. 

He took off his hat and quickly waved it in front of him out of cover. Immediately two shots followed, and he yanked his hat back in time to avoid it being ruined. The shots came directly from across the street. Jesse figured the sniper was up on one of the buildings, and chances were their focus would be directly on him since the fighting had moved on to inside the warehouse at this point. 

He was screwed. So, so screwed. He cursed to himself and kept ducked down, desperately trying to think of something to do. If he ran he’d be shot, he knew that. He had a feeling the next time he tried to do something stupid luck might not be on his side. 

He could still hear gunshots, further away now. They were definitely in the warehouse. Voices were faintly echoing, but he noticed there weren't many left. Overwatch had made quick work of them. 

He grabbed his radio, desperate for anything. “Hello, ‘s anyone there?”

There was just static in reply. “C’mon, please someone. I’m stuck on the other side of the gorge, got a sniper jus’ waitin’  for me to make a move, please.” Again, only static answered him. Jesse cursed and was almost tempted to throw a tantrum, though he knew he didn’t want to go out stomping in the dirt like a big brat. He didn’t want to go out at all, in fact. 

He turned around and looked back at the garage. He didn’t see the agent in the doorway, and realized that maybe he didn’t kill them. They screamed, sure, but it could’ve hit something non-vital. 

Jesse sighed and leaned his head back against the rock. He’d just have to wait for something to happen. Maybe a guardian angel would fly down from heaven and save him (unlikely, he hadn’t been to church since he was baptized so God likely hates him), or maybe a distraction of some sort would come along (again, unlikely, Overwatch seemed to run a tight ship. He doubted any "distractions" would be occurring that would offer him an escape).

Jesse closed his eyes and waited. He strained his ears to hear anything, and waited for… something. 

 

~~~

 

Jesse nearly startled when he heard voices and footsteps approaching, closer and closer. 

It turned out that something he was waiting for happened twenty minutes later. Gunfire and shouting had quieted down, and now the warm breeze was the only thing keeping Jesse company. The sun was practically gone now, leaving a dark reddish purple in its wake. 

He was surprised nobody had come for him yet, though maybe they were just waiting for backup or something. They must’ve known he’d injured one of their agents, maybe it was so severely that they needed assistance and deemed him a “dangerous threat.” He almost preened at the thought, though he knew that dangerous threats didn’t get negotiations -- they got shot on sight. 

The voices slowly got loud enough for him to hear. 

“Fuck, Andersson, they fucked you up.” It was a different voice, one Jesse hadn’t heard before. He heard shuffling, faintly heard the sound of a zipper.

The voice from earlier huffed and groaned in reply, apparently the voice belonged to ‘Andersson.’ “Yeah, it’s a fucking runt too.”

“What?”

“Whoever fucking shot me was a fucking _kid_ ,” they growled. “Little fucking punk.”

The other voice laughed. “Oh my god, you’re joking! Wait ‘til Commander hears-”

“Shut up! Stop laughing!”

“Hears what, exactly,” another voice joins in. It was the one that this ‘Andersson’ was being so respectful to earlier. The commander, then, for sure.

Jesse cringed. He was going to die. 

“Andersson got fucked up by a kid,” they laughed. “A fucking kid has been the one that Johnson can’t even snipe either. She’s been sitting there waiting for him to pop his head out. Couldn’t hit him _once_.”

The voice sighed. “Seriously? A kid.”

“Yeah, I mean- Johnson’s given up at this point. She said she’s already climbing down.”

Jesse’s eyes widened. Johnson was the sniper, from what he could tell. If she was no longer at her post…

Jesse didn’t wait to hear the rest of the conversation. He immediately full sprinted up the rest of the path, going as fast as his legs could carry him. Maybe he could leg it all the way to the diner and hide somewhere in there. He could turn back around and hide in the tunnel too. They might not suspect him to go back around through there.

He heard shouting behind him as he ran, but didn’t stop or even try to look back. 

“Hey! The kid’s fucking running!”

Jesse just ran faster, around the corner. He took a quick breath then turned back into the tunnel. He knew it would lead right back out to where they were, but if he went deep enough in and stayed quiet maybe they wouldn’t find him. They probably weren't expecting him to idle in the middle of it. 

Jesse ran all the way to the back of the tunnel and pressed himself into a corner. He reloaded his gun and readied another flashbang. From where he sat, he could see out onto the roof where he just was. He peeked his head out around the rock he was sat behind, and couldn’t quite see the way he came from. He cursed and shimmied himself out a little further. 

He peered down the tunnel and couldn’t see anyone there. He let out a deep breath of relief and smiled. He just outsmarted Overwatch agents. What fucking idiots. 

He pulled himself a bit further out of the corner so he could see better. He knew they would come back through at some point, but he really hoped they overlooked this tunnel. A gunshot would definitely alert all of them to where he was, and he knew he couldn’t take /all of them down by themselves. Feeling prideful, he figured maybe one or two. After all, he did outrun a sniper and injured that other agent enough. 

With his senses focused on the front of the tunnel, he didn’t notice the absolutely silent approach of another from behind. The other side of the tunnel that connected to the roof was right besides him, and as Jesse McCree silently gloated, he did not think to look the other way. It was only until someone was upon him, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and hauling him up, that he realized he made a mistake.

Jesse yelped, terrified by the brute strength of whoever grabbed him and yanked him up by the shirt. His collar dug into his throat as he was shoved back against the wall, and he found himself face to face with a mean looking man. Jesse’s gun and his flashbang fell to the floor uselessly in his shock. He started wiggling immediately, his hands coming up to claw at the person who had grabbed him. He felt his hands connect, but within moments all resistance was squashed as he was shoved harder against the wall.

He wore black like the rest of them, but looked far more official and dangerous. A beanie covered the top of his head and he wore a scowl on his face that made Jesse want to cry. He was far taller than Jesse, and he could feel the strength the man had behind him. He smelled of gunpowder, blood, and sweat.

The man just stared at him, dark eyes baring into his own, searching for something. Jesse had no idea what. He was just trying not to burst into tears, knowing these were his last moments. He wasn’t going to act like a baby and start crying, begging for his life (even though he desperately wanted to). Now that he was up close, he was even more terrified of Overwatch (Jesse decided he’d never admit it though, or show it). Instead, Jesse puffed out his chest and tried to look as brave and fearless as possible. He stared right into the eyes of the man who had him pinned and was assumedly ready to kill him.

Then, the man smiled. The smile wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t any sort of happy smile, it was mirthful for all the wrong reasons. As he spoke, Jesse immediately realized that this wasn’t just some Overwatch agent, this was the _Commander_. 

“Wow, you _are_  a kid…” He chuckled. He stood back slightly, while still holding Jesse against the wall, examining him. “A scrawny little thing, aren’t you. How old are you? Twelve?”

Jesse’s nostrils flared. Twelve? _Twelve?_  He did _not_  look twelve.

“I’m _nineteen_ ,” he corrected, mustering up the most savage growl he could. He thought it was a pretty good lie. And anyway, nineteen wasn't too far off from seventeen. 

The Commander laughed. “Nineteen? Really? Do you think I’m stupid, pendejo? You’ve barely grown into your own ears yet.” 

Jesse flushed, for no reason he himself could discern. It wasn’t really embarrassing. Right now was not the time to feel embarrassed. 

The Commander sighed. He tilted his head slightly, looking over Jesse again. “I can’t believe _you_  nearly killed one of my operatives… Y’know these people are supposed to be highly trained. We aren’t just any old cops, I hope you’ve noticed.” He let go of Jesse abruptly, and Jesse nearly fell on his ass. The wall caught him, and he tried to steady himself, reaching up to rub at his sore throat. There was probably a line left from the material of his collar digging in. The Commander had stepped back, but he left no space for Jesse to run. 

“I nearly killed ‘em?”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “Ahuh… nearly did it. You shot her here,” he shoved his fingers into Jesse’s left shoulder, “... and here…” he shoved them into Jesse’s collarbone, “ … and here…” he shoved them into his stomach roughly, enough to make Jesse wheeze slightly. 

“You also… somehow dodged one of my best snipers,” he muttered. “I don’t suppose Deadlock taught you to be nimble enough to do that, smart enough to do that?”

Jesse shook his head. “They didn’t teach me nothin’. I learned all this by myself.” 

“I find that highly improbable,” the Commander replied. “But I’ll humor you, kid.” He tilted his head  again, then smirked. “Maybe I should take you back with me.” 

“What?” Jesse didn’t have time to receive clarification, though. An elbow was already flying towards the side of his head and his vision blurred

 

~~~

 

Jesse woke up slowly. He heard it first. The steady beep of a machine, the sound of voices speaking that were just a bit too far away to understand. When he opened his eyes, everything was too bright, so he closed them again. He blinked slowly, his eyes adjusting the amount of light he should be taking in. There were no longer voices, but the steady beep of the machine continued steadily. 

He became aware of his surroundings slowly. He could feel stiff, clean sheets and a mattress beneath him. He was alone and stripped of all of his belongings, even his hat. His left arm was hooked up to an IV, clear fluid slowly dripping through the tube and into his veins. A long white wire was pressed into his wrist just above the IV, and he traced the wire back to the machine that was beeping. His bed and a small section around it were surrounded by pale blue sheets, which he figured were for privacy. A chair was set up next to his bed, and as he looked, he positively could not make anything out of the numbers and words on the machine he was hooked up to. He didn’t feel much in pain, just disoriented mostly.

It took him a few minutes to finally get in his right mind, for his brain to start working again and to realize he should not just be sitting down here. His eyes widened, and immediately he tried to stand up from the bed. He quickly found that his right arm was shackled to the bed, as were both his ankles. 

Jesse’s breath shuddered and he /panicked/. He made a fuss of the sheets, starting to kick and squirm. He twisted his wrist and his ankles as much as he could, yanking with a stubborn determination to escape. The cuffs were tough though, not metal but a thick fabric that didn’t seem to chafe his wrist or ankles no matter how much he wiggled. His mind was racing with a realization that he was /captured/, they had him incapacitated in some sort of hospital, and that they could’ve been pumping millions of sedatives and drugs into him, to confuse him or trick him or do… something. He growled with determination and tried with all his might to pull his wrists free. He registered in the back of his mind that he wouldn’t be able to free himself, but it didn’t seem to stop his arms or his legs from twisting and turning. He brought his left arm over to his right that was shackled down, and roughly tugged out his IV and the wire . The machine that was previously hooked up to him stopped beeping then, and instead an alarm started blaring and the screen started flashing. His eyes widened. 

He kept struggling fruitlessly for a few more moments, before he could hear multiple footsteps and suddenly the curtain around him was being pulled back. He looked up and saw three people approach, every single one of them wearing white coats that looked like something scientists would wear. He noticed the Overwatch logo printed on the right upper corner of the coat. They all seemed momentarily shocked to see him struggling, but then they came forward.

“Sir, you need to calm down.”

“Please, Jesse, relax we aren’t going to hurt you.”

“Jesse we will need to use a sedative if we have to.” 

Jesse’s eyes narrowed and he growled as they approached. _How did they know his name?_

“Stay away from me!” He yelled, continuing to struggle. 

One of the doctors, or what he assumed were doctors, came closer. “Jesse please, we are not trying to hurt you.” She looked young and pretty and very intelligent. Her hair was blonde and bright and her ears were a beautiful blue. She looked quite kind, but at the same time stern. Jesse was reminded of those sort of people that could be incredibly sweet one second and biting your head off the next.

“No! Get- Get _away!_ ” He had stopped pulling at his ankle restraints at this point, his legs seemed to be giving up and believing that she won’t hurt him. His right arm wasn’t quite ready to surrender yet, though he wasn’t viciously trying to escape any longer.

“I’m Doctor Ziegler,” she continued, seemingly unperturbed by his outbursts. She must’ve dealt with this sort of thing frequently, or at least often enough so that she remains unaffected by it. “I would like for you to calm down, otherwise I will _not_  hesitate to sedate you for the safety of yourself and others.”

Jesse growled, tugging a few more times on the cuff before giving up. “Where am I?” He snarled. He didn’t quite want to be so mean, Doctor Ziegler seemed awfully kind, but he couldn’t quite help it. He was scared, and he definitely didn’t want to show cowardice or weakness.

“You’re in the medbay at Overwatch Headquarters in Zürich. You were delivered here four hours ago, and you’ve been unconscious until now,” she replied cooly. She turned back to her two medical colleagues who still looked ready to hold Jesse down if needed. She simply nodded to them in dismissal, and the two walked away.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience. We couldn’t just wait by your bedside so that you didn’t wake up alone in a strange place. There’s far too much work to be done,” she explained. “You are perfectly safe here, though, Jesse McCree.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Your file was easily accessible with a little bit of digging. It seemed… er- shall I say, outdated. But we were easily able to acquire the essentials, such as name and your family and medical history,” she sighed. “I would like to ask you about that, actually. While you were out, we updated your vaccinations. You were missing… all of them. So, your arm might be a bit sore. We didn’t know how you would react with different technology while you were unconscious so we did them the old fashioned way.”

“I can’t feel a thing,” Jesse shrugged. He wasn’t sure which arm she was referring to, but neither of them felt any different. He _did_  feel hyper aware of the IV sticking out of his flesh.

“That’s very good, Mr. McCree,” she beamed, seemingly pleased with herself. “I will return momentarily with necessary paperwork that needs to be filled out. I also-”

“What if I don’t want to,” he asked. “I still haven’t got a clue what I’m doing here or what’s going on, and I don’t wanna tell my information to nobody until I find out.”

Doctor Ziegler flushed. “R-Right, of course.You were taken captive by Commander Reyes in Deadlock gorge. He knocked you out by physical means, and the second you got here, you were examined medically and researched extensively. As I am only the doctor, I can only tell you that health wise you were not terribly concerning. Physically, you had a bump on the side of your head from Commander Reyes knocking you out, and you have considerable bruising on your stomach. Luckily there was no internal bleeding, and so once we do some paperwork your ailments can be healed properly and easily. You’re underweight and slightly dehydrated, you’re on watch for concussions, and you’re considered a high surveillance patient because you are a member of the Deadlock Gang, and therefore an outlaw. Is this an acceptable explanation until Commander Reyes comes in to speak with you?”

“Yes, that’s fine ma’am,” Jesse sighed. “I don’t know how well I can help you out on that paperwork.” 

Jesse didn’t quite feel perfectly comfortable in this situation, but something about Doctor Ziegler had calmed him down considerably.

“We will fill out what we can,” she smiled. She shifted slightly as if to leave. “I will go get that paperwork now and notify Reyes that you are awake.”

 

~~~

 

Gabe was nursing a headache when he got a notification from Doctor Ziegler. He groaned and stood, walking to the console that felt way too far away from his bed. He tapped a few buttons and his screen flickered on, and once his thumb print was recognized the message was opened.

_ Jesse is awake. I’ve sent an updated version of his files for you to look at. He wants to talk to somebody about why he is here.He was very vague when answering my questions, kept saying he didn’t want to say too much when he still didn’t know what was going on. He seems very distrustful despite being extensively charming and flirtatious, or attempting to at least. _

_ -Z _

The message was sent privately and encrypted, through a channel that very few had access to. The matter of Jesse McCree was under the category of ‘Blackwatch’ and therefore was deemed top secret.

Gabe opened the file and examined it. Jesse Joel McCree was seventeen years old. He was born in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Both his parents were dead before Jesse was ten, and the kid didn’t finish school past the seventh grade. Jesse was bilingual and claimed to speak English and Spanish fluently. Jesse started getting in trouble when he was eleven, started robbing convenience stores and pickpocketing. He didn’t get caught until he was thirteen, but he got out and joined Deadlock at fourteen. There was no other family he knew of, no siblings or great aunts, nobody to notify of his capture and situation. The kid was seventeen, so Gabe supposed Jesse was under the legal custody of the United States, but he seriously doubted they'd care enough to send anybody out here for any sort of meeting. They'd only want him back to serve jail time.

Gabe sighed. This was a mess. Now looking back on it, perhaps it would've been better to just put the poor kid out of his misery. He gravely injured one of his agents after all, which meant letting him live at all was already out of the ordinary. Gabe was slightly questioning himself to as why he didn’t seem bothered by _not_  killing him.

Gabriel didn't want to admit outloud that the kid seemed to have some sort of skill. He supposed that Jesse didn't have any choice, really. He was thrown into the life and he had to adapt or die, and survival of the fittest prevailed since Jesse was now sitting in the protective custody of Overwatch. 

He still had to be tested both physically and mentally. Jesse hadn't passed seventh grade education and Gabe wasn't even sure Jesse could _read_ , which was a very necessary skill to have no matter what one’s profession was. And, the shots he got off on Andersson could've just been lucky. He had no idea if the kid could shoot properly or do _anything_ properly for that matter. 

Gabe groaned. “Athena, delete message. Save file under 73665.”

“Yes, Commander Reyes,” a pleasant voice replied from the speakers somewhere in his quarters’ ceiling. He loved and despised Athena at the same time. The AI was brilliant and convenient, but Gabriel wasn't stupid. He knew that somehow the mechanism was used to spy on him, no matter how many times Jack assured him that he was too high up to be spied on. 

The file in front of him disappeared and the screen blinked back to the Overwatch logo that turned around and around infinitely. It was almost mocking. 

“Also, notify Dr. Ziegler that my head is killing me.” 

“Yes, Commander Reyes. Anything else?”

“Turn the lights off. Wake me up in twenty minutes.”

“Yes, Commander Reyes.” 

Gabe turned and pushed back the uncomfortable office chair. He pushed a few buttons on the console in front of him and the screen disappeared entirely. He stood and walked towards his bed on the opposite side of the room. He fell onto it gracelessly, burying his head into the comfortable mattress and screaming. 

He had nearly forgotten about Jack. As nosey as he was, Jack Morrison tended to leave Gabe alone on Blackwatch matters. Jack had known Gabe long enough and well enough to know that Gabe was a stubborn bastard, and for good reason, and so there was no real point in trying to get him to change his mind once it was made up. Blackwatch was _Gabe's_  responsibility, he was the commander and he believed he should have total authority over it. Jack couldn't do shit about him if he didn't follow orders anyway. Even the U.N. wasn’t entirely aware of all Blackwatch matters, so who could Jack complain to? Nobody. Plus, Gabe thought a bit smugly, Jack had a bit of a soft spot for him.

Everyone in Overwatch had a vague understanding of Blackwatch, and that understanding was that you don't ask questions and don't try to understand it. Very few knew the exact nature of it, and even fewer knew each and every member that existed. Blackwatch agents weren't prohibited from mingling with regular Overwatch, but they were heavily cautioned. There was no official “Blackwatch wing” but it just so happened that every Blackwatch agent had quarters in one place, and they all unofficially laid claim to the common room, kitchen, and meeting room in the H Wing of Overwatch HQ. They were rarely all there at the same time anyway, and there were only thirteen members including Gabe (possibly fourteen now). 

However, he felt this was one thing Jack might not allow to happen. Overwatch had never hired a criminal, and Jesse was most definitely a criminal, no matter how young he was or how tragic of a backstory he had. Jack Morrison would be pissed and would want to send Jesse to prison where he belongs immediately, and then he'd throw Gabe even further into the dog house than he already was. No amount of dick sucking could smooth over this situation.

Gabe’s relationship with Strike Commander Jack Morrison was complicated to say the least. Gabe wasn’t sure if Jack loved him or hated him at this point, or what the hell was even going through Jack’s head. He knew Jack was under a lot of stress -- he was a busy man with too many unfixable problems to fix. Half the world thought Overwatch was doing the wrong thing, while the other half thought they were doing the right thing. Too many variables were out of their control, and yet the rest of the world _insisted_  that everything should be fixed to every single individual standard of every single being in the world -- human _and_  omnic. So, Gabe couldn’t exactly blame Jack for being a bit upset with him most of the time. Everything was frantic now, and the last time Gabe had slept in Jack’s bed had been nearly three weeks ago now. Not to mention their constant arguing about everything, of how the other should be acting and how Overwatch and Blackwatch should be run. They argued about the most serious and the most stupid things, and sometimes Gabe felt it unbearable to even be in the room with the “Golden Boy.”

Gabe closed his eyes and huffed into his sheets, hoping that maybe he could get a nice nap in before interrogating the possible newest Blackwatch recruit.

 

~~~

 

Jesse smiled sweetly at the nurse who brought him a tray of food. She had introduced herself earlier as Janey, and said she’d been a nurse for nearly twenty years. Jesse could see her age in her face, wrinkles around her eyes and lips, dark age spots peppering her face. Her eyes were a deep dark brown, similar to her hair that had yet to show any grey. 

“Thank you, darlin’,” he grinned. 

She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “My, my, aren’t you a charmer.” She set his tray down on surface that connected to Jesse’s bed, and showed him how to  move it around. 

“‘Course I am. If my mama taught me ‘nything, it was manners.” She taught him a lot more too, but those stories didn’t belong in polite conversation.

For the past four hours of waiting, Jesse had been amusing himself with the different nurses and doctors that would come by to speak with him. They seemed to be taking shifts, coming by to make sure he was still there and make sure he was comfortable, or at least that's what they claimed. He knew that was total bullshit, and they were coming by to make sure he wasn't up to anything. He gave each one the same treatment, the sweetest smile he could muster and put all the southern charm he had into his words. The reactions he got from the different people were infinitely amusing.

One person who came in was young, younger than Doctor Ziegler even, and said he was a nurse in training. He was cute, and Jesse made him blush and stammer so hard he dropped his clipboard twice. _Twice_.

Jesse hadn’t seen that same nurse again, but Janey and one other came in more regularly. A younger nurse came in, not too young but not as old as Janey. They said their name was Bailey, and they happily flirted with Jesse until they realized they had a job to do and moved on to their next patient. Every time they passed through Jesse gave them a wink, and he received one in return.

“Well, she taught them to you very well,” Janey sighed. She fiddled with the machine hooked up to Jesse for a few more moments then stepped back. “Are you comfortable, Mr. McCree?”

“Mhm. Thank you, but uh- do ya maybe know when I’ll get to talk to this ‘Commander Reyes’ guy?”

Janey shook her head. Her incredibly curly hair bounced with the movement. “Doctor Ziegler said she requested his presence an hour ago. But, Commander Reyes is a busy man. I’m sure he’s eager to talk to you.”

“I’m sure he is. I would be eager to talk to myself  too,” Jesse smirked. “I’m very interestin’.” 

Janey chuckled again. Her whole being was so motherly and comforting. Her laugh was not ridiculing Jesse, but almost encouraging his shenanigans.

“Yes, yes you are. Alright, push the button if you need anything else.”

“Will do, ma’am. Will do.”

Janey departed and once the curtain closed behind her Jesse immediately turned to his food. God it looked delicious. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He’d never been in a hospital or anything like this before, he wondered if they hired the best chefs.

He quickly tugged the tray over to himself and dug in, not bothering to pause and actually _taste_  the food. There was an amazing ham sandwich, a bag of chips, and a little bowl of Jello, and Jesse nearly moaned at the first taste of the food. The last time he had eaten it had been a half-empty can of lukewarm beans and stale crackers. Compared to that, the food he had been handed was a foreign /delicacy/.

He was almost finished when the curtains around him opened and Doctor Ziegler walked through. She held a clipboard, and behind her another man followed. Jesse gulped. Jesse connected the dots, this was the commander from Deadlock Gorge that pinned him to a wall and knocked him out cold.

Jesse’s eyes widened, fear instinctively taking hold as his mind registered the man as dangerous, which in some respects was fair because he did end up taking Jesse hostage in a possibly dangerous environment. He had heard his name enough, this was Commander Reyes. He seemed highly respected, and Jesse understood why. He was intimidating, and nobody would be stupid enough to disrespect him (except for maybe Jesse himself, but that was only for appearances).

Jesse slurped down the rest of his jello and sat up straight. 

 

“God damn, _finally_  someone to give me some answers.”

Commander Reyes scowled. Jesse noticed that he wasn’t wearing the same outfit from before. It was very similar, but it wasn’t a uniform. It looked more like that fancy expensive workout gear that wasn’t made of cotton, the nice jackets and sweats with those racing stripes or whatever they were called. The Overwatch insignia was printed on right arm of his jacket, though the jacket seemed to lack anything deeming him of any important status. He was still wearing that beanie from earlier, and Jesse couldn’t decide if it was black or a very dark blue..

“Allow me to offer a sort of proper introduction,” Doctor Ziegler said, as professionally as she could. She must’ve seen the way Gabe had scowled and decided to ease the tension. “Jesse McCree, this is Commander Gabriel Reyes.”

Jesse nodded. “I figured.” He held out his hand and stared the Commander straight in the eyes, challenging him. “Put ‘er there, partner,” he drawled, waiting for a handshake. 

Commander Reyes rolled his eyes and ignored Jesse’s hand. “Doctor Ziegler, is he well enough to be moved out of here?”

She hummed in affirmative. “Yes, he is perfectly healthy besides a few scrapes and light dehydration. Er- I wouldn’t recommend too much physical activity?”

“Thank you, Doctor Ziegler. Release him to me and give him back his clothes. I’d like to move him to one of the interrogation rooms.”

“Certainly. I’ll fetch your belongings then release you, Jesse.”

Then she turned on her heel and was gone, the curtain swishing closed behind her. Jesse swallowed, and tried not to look nervous, though being in a room alone with this man was slightly scary. He didn’t exactly look like he was eager to be here. 

“Ya gonna tell me what’s goin’ on,” Jesse asked after a prolonged awkward silence.

Commander Reyes shook his head. “Not here.” He said nothing further, and Jesse frowned, but understood the notion of secrecy and discretion.

“I don’t like bein’ kept in the dark,” he complained anyway, knowing it was just annoying.

“Deal with it, kid.”

“I ain’t a kid.”

“You’re seventeen.”

“Almost eighteen!”

“You’d still be a kid even if you were twenty with the way you're acting now. Now shut the fuck up before Doctor Ziegler has a reason to keep you in the medbay longer,” Commander Reyes threatened, his eyes narrowing and _glaring_  at Jesse harshly. 

Jesse took the hint, and stopped talking, but didn’t dare stop looking back at the commander. 

Doctor Ziegler returned a few minutes later, carrying familiar ratty clothes that Jesse recognized as his own. She placed them on his bed then started to loosen his bindings. She removed his IV and any other wires hooked up to him quickly and efficiently.

“Alright, all done.” She turned to Commander Reyes. “Oh- yes, I almost forgot.” She dug into one of the pockets in her coat and pulled out a small round cylinder filled with white pills. “One every six hours, Gabriel. Promise me you won’t take more than that.”

“I won’t.” He took the container and shoved it in his pocket. “Thank you. For this and-” 

He didn’t seem to need to explain himself. Doctor Ziegler nodded, “Of course, Gabe. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She turned and nodded briefly to Jesse, before once again leaving the premise. 

Jesse looked up at Commander Reyes, or ‘Gabe’ or ‘Gabriel’ apparently. He’d have to remember that. “I- er- you gonna turn around or somethin’?”

Commander Reyes raised an eyebrow. “What, and give you a chance to make a run for it?”

“Nah, I just- I need some privacy to change,” Jesse explained, trying and failing to hold back a smug grin. He briefly wondered if the man would hold his composure if he had just stripped down with no hesitation. Jesse wasn’t exactly shy anyway.

Commander Reyes sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m giving you one minute.” He did turn around though, and crossed his arms with a huff.

Jesse immediately got to getting dressed, thanking God that they kept his hat safe. He would’ve been extremely upset if he lost it. Jesse stripped out of his medical gown and into his clothes. They seemed to be a lot cleaner than they used to be, and he made a note to thank whoever washed them. He didn’t even know that his shirt was supposed to be light brown, not dark brown. He made a mental note to ask if he’d ever get his gun back. It might’ve been a piece of shit, but it was _his_  piece of shit.

“Alright, all done,” he said, after he had gotten all dressed. He stood up properly for the first time in hours and stretched a bit. “I must say, this is a mighty fine place ya got her-”

Jesse was cut off when the hulking figure that was Commander Reyes turned suddenly. He stepped forward and grabbed Jesse by the shoulder, turning him around and pushing him down against the bed. 

“Hands behind your back, don’t put up a fight,” Commander Reyes sighed. Jesse heard the clinking of handcuffs.

Jesse whined in outrage. “What?! C’mon, there’s no need t’ cuff me! I ain’t gonna run!”

“We’ll see about that, pendejo. _Hands behind your back_ ,” Commander Reyes uttered the last command in Spanish. 

“Oh! _You speak Spanish? I haven’t talked to a person in a language that wasn’t English in months!_ ” Jesse was smiling a bit smugly as he complied to his request, putting his hands behind his back. He felt cold metal clink on, and immediately felt dread slinking around in his gut, the same he’d felt earlier when he realized he was cuffed down to the bed. He didn’t like not being able to use his hands, to be bound. It made him nervous. He pushed the feeling as far away as he could though, and tried to keep up his high and mighty image. 

“ _Who’d you learn it from_ ,” Commander Reyes asked as he pulled Jesse up by the shoulder. Jesse stumbled as he was now standing and spun so that he was in front of Commander Reyes. He started leading Jesse along out of the medbay.

“ _My mother and anyone else who was around that I spoke to_ ,” Jesse replied. He had to force himself not to gape as he was paraded through the halls of Overwatch headquarters. 

The idea finally registered in his brain, and he really wasn’t even sure how he felt about it. He tried to take in as much as he could. Commander Reyes led him down many halls, twisting and turning. Everything was very clean and official, crisp and smooth and harsh at the same time.They passed closed doors and open ones. Jesse couldn’t get too much of a glance in, but he would see large meeting tables, office areas, or common rooms. Many people passed by them, all of them looking so clean and so official. Blue seemed to be a reoccurring theme everywhere, a color painted on walls and on uniforms and signs. Jesse personally found it a bit tacky, but didn’t want to be insulting the ‘official color’ of this sort of operation.

A five minute walk led them to an elevator, that went down two floors and then more walking. Another five minutes and Jesse spotted a sign on a wall that said “Interrogation and Holding.” The door was shut, but Commander Reyes pressed his thumb against a scanner on the wall and the door opened immediately. 

The hallway it led into was skinnier than the others they had been passing through. It was darker too, obviously less taken care of. They passed by multiple glass windows that looked in on empty cement rooms. Commander Reyes walked Jesse down even further to the end of the hall, and urged him through a door that had another one of those special scanners on the side.

The room looked the same as the rest they had passed by. An empty cement room with a metal table and chair in the center. Instead of a piece of glass on the wall inside, however, there was a mirror. Jesse frowned in confusion.

Commander Reyes sat Jesse down in the chair by the table and then backed up and away.

“Stay sitting,” he warned. 

“Are we gonna talk now?”

“Yes,” Commander Reyes nodded. “We’re gonna talk. Some people are gonna come in and meet you later.” He pulled a small sleek device out of his pocket, and it immediately flickered on and produced a holographic image. Commander Reyes tapped a few buttons on it, then shoved it back in his pockets.

“Alright. Your name is Jesse McCree. You’re seventeen and you have no family. You got caught up in the only lifestyle you could, and then you found yourself in one of the most dangerous gangs in North America. Is that about right,” Commander Reyes stated. Right to the point, apparently, no sugar coating. He didn’t look like the sort of guy to sugar coat things. Jesse thought maybe if he tried it, he wouldn’t be so intimidating. Jesse had learned that sugar coating things and little white lies could get someone just about anything in a pinch.

“I guess that’s about right,” Jesse shrugged. 

“Wanna fill in the details for me, kid?”

“Not particularly…” Jesse trailed off. “Is this the official interrogation?”

“Did you read the sign when we walked in or was that a lucky guess,” the commander snarked.

Jesse smirked. Real funny. “That’s ‘ssuming I know how t’ read.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s a start. You dropped out of school when you were eleven. Why?”

“Didn’t need it anymore. They weren’t gonna teach me nothin’ that would help me in life.”

“No? They wouldn’t teach you how to read, write, have better grammar, perhaps?” Commander Reyes asked. Jesse almost laughed. He didn't have bad grammar, he just had that southern charm that fascinated people so much. “Or given you the tools to excel in life, get a job, provide for a family?”

Jesse laughed. “There’s no way in hell I could’ve pulled that shit off. Life dealt me a nasty hand that I had to make somethin’ out of. Going t’ school and learnin’ triangle-ometry wasn’t gonna give me anythin’.”

Commander Reyes nodded. He leaned forward with his hands flat on the table. “I suppose not.”

“Before we get real personal with these questions, can I jus’ ask you what the hell is goin’ on here?”

“That’s a very vague question.”

“Why am I even here? Shouldn’t I be in jail?” He was a criminal after all. Jesse hadn’t properly come to peace with the idea yet, even after so many years. He /knew/ he was, but at the same time it just felt wrong. Sometimes he didn’t know how other people could do the things they did with such certainty.

Commander Reyes nodded. “Yes, you should be. But, I noticed that you were almost able to escape not only an Overwatch strike team, but a _Blackwatch_  strike team, which is highly impressive considering all of the other trash we mowed through while taking out Deadlock’s little nest of parasites.”

“Blackwatch? Should I know what that is?” Jesse questioned. Maybe it was because the whole team wore black or something. 

“No, I would hope you didn’t, or that would mean Overwatch has some serious security breaches we need to fix,” the Commander chuckled. “I’m the Commander of an elite and semi-secret branch of Overwatch known as Blackwatch. All of my agents are incredibly skilled and highly trained in every way you could think of. I've handpicked and trained each and every one of them myself. We complete the more controversial and secretive missions that Overwatch can't deal with for whatever reason.” Jesse didn’t miss the almost bitter tone that his words held near the end of his explanation.

“Ah, is that why y'all were sent? Overwatch couldn't deal with Deadlock,” Jesse asked, smirking. He didn’t feel prideful or anything about it. He may have had the tattoo, but he wouldn’t betrayed him in a heartbeat if he knew it wouldn’t have killed them. Jesse just, thought it was funny that the gang was viewed as such a threat. Nobody had ever stepped near Deadlock Gorge in his three and a half years of being with them, which was perplexing. If it was such a big deal, and so notorious, why didn’t anyone step in to stop it?

“The mission called for fighting highly dangerous and numerous and unpredictable gang members. They sent us, knowing we could easily deal with it with the least amount of casualty and attention drawn to the whole situation as possible. Which we could. There were no casualties with exception to those you dealt to Agent Andersson. She's not going to be very happy with you, if you stay.” 

“ _If_   I stay?”

“I figure it this way kid,” Commander Reyes started. “We’re giving you a choice, or- _I'm_  giving you a choice. You can either work for us, _or_  you can rot in an American prison, mostly in solitary probably.” 

“Er- you say _you_  are givin’ me a choice, but uh- you made it seem like you ain't the only one I gotta impress.” 

Jesse really hoped he didn't have to go through too many tests. He'd already made his decision, there was no way in hell he was going to go to prison. He didn't want to make this obvious, though, he had to at least pretend he wasn't sure. Though, what kind of idiot would pick prison over /this/ opportunity. Especially considering where a lot of people like Jesse came from.

“Well, you'll have to get the O.K. from Strike Commander Jack Morrison too. He runs the show around here, and he doesn't have much control of Blackwatch, but in this instance I agree that he should have _some_  part in your recruitment.”

“Is that the- the blonde dude that we always see on T.V. all the time,” Jesse asked. Jesse personally hadn't thought much of him before. Overwatch hadn’t concerned him too much until they were threatening his existence. He knew that a lot of people disliked how Morrison was running things though. From being on the road, he'd heard rumors that he's always at odds from everyone, inside and outside of Overwatch. He's fairly sure he's read in a gossip article once that he's got a lover in Overwatch that he never got along with.

“Ain't he got a boyfriend or somethin,” Jesse asked. He cringed as the words came out, probably not something he should ask, really, but it was too late now.

Jesse saw the Commander’s eyes change a bit, and then he pursed his lips. “Gossip columns you found online probably aren't the place you should be digging for dirt on Morrison.”

“It ain't dirt it was just- I was curious.”

“His personal affections do not have any place in our current conversation,” Commander Reyes replied, obviously trying to shut down whatever that conversation might end up being. “Anyway, you’re going to be put through a series of tests. If you’re good enough, I’d like to recruit you to Blackwatch. If not, we’ll send you on your way to prison, is that clear?”

“Crystal, sir,” Jesse grinned smugly. He saluted slightly mockingly. He was slightly disappointed when it didn’t get too much of a reaction out of Commander Reyes. “When is Strike Commander Morrison gonna be talkin’ to me?”

“Whenever he gets here. So, I’d suggest you sit quiet and shut up and try to be on your best behavior when he gets here. I already know he’s been tipped off on why I’ve asked him down here.” Commander Reyes turned at that and left the room. The door swished shut behind him.

Jesse pursed his lips then pouted. More waiting didn’t sound too nice. He sighed and willed himself to sit up straight and look as respectable as he could. This Morrison guy sounded like more of a hardass than Reyes was.

 

~~~

 

“Let me get this straight, Reyes- you want to recruit a former member of the Deadlock Gang to a highly respectable and scrutinized organization? Especially at a time like this when the U.N. is already riding on our asses-”

Gabe held back the urge to roll his eyes. Jack had started lecturing him from all the way down hall. He didn’t get any sort of greeting, of course. He looked tense and irritated as always. It wasn’t a nice look on him. 

“No, not to Overwatch, Morrison. I want to recruit him to Blackwatch. Secretly.”

“Recruitments can’t be hidden from the U.N.-”

“The U.N. don’t even know what Blackwatch is. They have no way to monitor our mission reports or any other information that involves us. Jesse will slip through the system easily, I guarantee-” 

“No, no Reyes. This- this is insanity. You want me to allow you to bring a criminal into our organization. He can be a spy for all we know.”

“He isn’t a spy, I know that for damn sure. Listen, I’m not even one hundred percent sure I want him yet, I want to put him through testing to see if he’s even basically educated,” Gabe continued. “And I’d appreciate if you’d actually listen to me and not just assume everything I try to do is crazy.”

“It _is_  crazy, most of the time, Reyes. And this just takes the cake,” Jack replied sternly. “You want to give a chance to a _kid_ that you haven’t even tested to see if he’s worth anything yet? Why the hell do you even want him so bad, then?”

“He nearly took down one of my agents and outsmarted one of my snipers. He has so much potential to be an amazing asset-”

“Yeah, and the potential to cause chaos and more trouble than he’s worth and shut us down.”

“I have a feeling about him, Jack. No matter how stupid this idea sounds, I have this feeling about him.”

“You shouldn’t make such big decisions without any logical thought behind them,” Jack warned.

“It’s not a decision yet. The logic part will come from the results of his tests tomorrow. I’m not stupid, I’ve thought this through,” Gabe continued. “Can’t you just trust me on this.”

“No, I can’t. Last time I trusted you with something… you ruined Ana’s surprise party.” He said it so seriously, but Gabe could see it. He could see the crack of Jack’s smile and the way his reasoning was getting through to him.

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault,” Gabe smiled back. “You were the one that brought her too early.”

“You said you’d be ready by noon,” Jack argued. His smile was shining through now. Absolutely perfect, like the rest of him really, appearance-wise at least. 

“I did _not_ ,” Gabe laughed. He stepped forward a bit closer, resting a tentative hand on Jack’s hip. When he wasn’t pushed away, he pressed in a bit closer. “Jacky please, trust me on this, okay?”

Jack’s lips straightened out a bit, but Gabe could see that he wasn’t quite ready to shut the whole idea down. 

“Okay, fine. He better be one of the best shots you have, though. Or just- something,” Jack sighed. He didn’t look quite sold, but neither was Gabe on the whole idea either. He was hoping it’d be smoothed out tomorrow. 

“Would you like to meet the kid? He’s quite the piece of work.” Gabe moved away again and gestured Jack towards the door that led into where Jesse was waiting. 

Jack peered through the one way glass in at him. Jesse had seemingly given up on sitting up straight. He looked like a bored kid in math class, with his elbow propped up and his cheek squished into his palm. He was fiddling with a torn edge of his serape.

Jack nodded. “I suppose I should.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Ana Amari and her character so much! So of course, she will have a HUGE part in this fic.

Jesse had slept in a holding cell that night. The bed wasn’t quite as comfy as the one in the medbay, but he wasn’t about to complain. This was ten times better than what he had been sleeping on for the the past six years. The bed was clean and off the ground, a lumpy mattress supported by a squeaky and slightly rusted metal bed frame. 

The food he’d been served for dinner wasn’t nearly as good as what they gave him in the medbay, either. It looked sort of mushy, and he was reminded of the free school lunches he got back in middle school when his family was dirt poor and his ma was sick. It wasn’t inedible or anything, just unseasoned and dry enough that sips of water between bites were necessary. He scarfed it down either way. It still beat the shit he sometimes managed to scavenge up when he was back with Deadlock. 

He had been lazily resting about the whole day, so he wasn’t too tired at first. The place he was being kept in really was a proper jail cell. There were bars that he couldn’t quite stick his face through, and cement formed the three other walls around him, as well as the ceiling and the floor. When Jesse peeked through, he observed that the four other cells in the hall were empty. There was a guard near the end of the hallway, though Jesse could only see their boots and blue pants. They didn’t seem to be doing much, maybe reading. 

Jesse tried making light conversation at one point, commenting that the iron bars were a bit barbaric compared to the fancy stuff they had in the new prisons now. The guard eloquently told him to shut the fuck up. 

Eventually Jesse was bored enough to sleep. He could only whistle old country classics so many times before he wanted to kill Carrie Underwood and ask her why the hell she would admit to vandalizing a man’s car. He gave props to her for her creativity and bravery to even do something like that, but damn was it stupid to write a song bragging about how she did it. That was basically a confession. 

He slept like a baby on his lumpy mattress, snoring away peacefully. He didn’t feel quite comfortable in this environment. He was scared as hell to complete any tests and trials that they asked of him, but at least he knew that for the night he couldn’t be gutted or robbed. Though, technically Overwatch had been the ones to rob _him_  of his belongings. He really hoped he’d get them back. He was quite fond of his backpack, and he had a few pictures of his family and his hometown buried in there somewhere. Not to get all sentimental, but they were his only real ties to the even somewhat normal parts of his past and childhood. 

He was awakened at what he assumed was early in the morning by loud banging on the bars of his cell. He blinked his eyes open and saw Commander Reyes standing there, looking exactly like he did the day previously, which was moody and irritated. Jesse wondered if he always looked like that. 

The only small window in his cell was spilling a very light orange light through into the room. Besides that, the lights in the hallway were still off. 

“Get up, c’mon.” 

Jesse sat up and yawned. He slipped his serape back over his head and put his hat back into it’s rightful place. 

“Is it early?”

“Yes, it’s approximately wake the fuck up o’ clock. Now come over here towards the door,” Reyes snapped. 

Jesse smiled a bit drowsily and stood. He enjoyed how sassy Reyes was when he spoke. The man would’ve been one hell of a comedian. 

“Y’know, sir, you’re pretty funny,” he said as he walked over towards the the door. Reyes pressed his finger against another one of those scanners and the door slid open. 

“Turn around,” Reyes commanded, ignoring Jesse’s compliment. 

Jesse did as he was told. He felt and heard the telltale click of cold metal around his wrists. He tested the cuffs, pulling at them a bit. There was barely any give.

“Are you gonna test me with my hands like this?”

“Maybe, we’ll see.”

Jesse found himself being led through the halls of Overwatch headquarters. Reyes kept a tight grip on his shoulder, leading him once again towards the elevator.

Jesse noticed that the halls were much quieter now. The lights were all on, and there were a few stragglers here and there, though they didn’t look too tired. They were all completely dressed and ready for the day, walking with a stride that said that they had somewhere they needed to be. 

They gave nods of what he could only assume was respect towards Commander Reyes. None of them bothered saluting, but it seemed like there was a mutual sort of agreement that they were all too busy for such formalities. 

As Reyes led him through, Jesse noticed the amount of people they passed by getting sparser and sparser. Soon enough the place seemed abandoned. There was no low sounds of murmuring, nor was there anybody desperately needing to be somewhere so early. 

“Why is this place so empty,” Jesse asked. 

“It’s the H wing. Nobody really comes over here unless they’re -- well there’s an unofficial understanding that this area is not for the common Overwatch member. The main door we’re about to come up on requires a fingerprint, only certain people can get through,” Reyes explained, his voice a low murmur next to Jesse’s ear. It sounded very much like a secret.

“So there’s no sign sayin’ it, everyone jus’ _knows_?”

“Pretty much. They tell rookies rumors of scary shit going on over here, and that usually scares the younger ones away. Even if they have a high enough passage level nobody really comes over here,” Reyes continued. “If anyone is here that we feel aren’t supposed to be, they can be persuaded to leave quite easily.”

Jesse nodded in understanding and stayed quiet, as he couldn’t find any other conversation topics that would be relevant. It felt a little too early to be a cocky little shit. 

Eventually they came up to the door Reyes was referencing. Reyes pressed his thumb into a scanner, and it quickly flashed a green light before the door swished open. 

There was a very short hallway beyond the door, and it opened up into a much larger and wider room. Everything looked sleek and nice, clean and with that same sort of modernism that the rest of the HQ had. However, Jesse noticed that there wasn’t a single trace of that obnoxiously royal blue in the room. There were no stripes painted on the wall, no tiles on the floor. If anything, the area looked like a hotel suite a rich person might stay the night in on the top floor. They reminded him of the ones he saw in movies when he was a kid. 

Jesse didn’t get much time to look around, the second they stepped in Reyes was already pressing him around the corner and down another hallway. He did manage to see a decently-sized kitchen and a living room with a large television screen propped up on the wall. The couch was a deep maroon color, and was facing away from where Jesse was standing. He saw a glimpse of dark hair watching whatever was on the screen before he was being pulled along. 

“So, I’m gonna assume this is where Blackwatch does their thing?”

“Ahuh,” Reyes replied. “They’re allowed to visit other common rooms, but a lot of them prefer to stay here.”

“I get why. I hate that damn blue color they got around everywhere,” Jesse complained. “Looks so damn obnoxious, and hurts my eyes.”

That got a chuckle out of Reyes. “Damn, kid. You sure are gonna _love_  being here.” Jesse wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that, but he hoped it was some sort of indication that he had a better chance here than he originally assumed.

The hallway they were passing through had multiple doors on either side of the walls, spaced out evenly. There were little plaques next to each door, names inscribed on each one. 

“‘S this where everyone sleeps,” Jesse asked. 

“Why do you ask so many damn questions,” Reyes sighed. They were approaching the big doorway at the end of the hallway. This one didn’t have any door filling it. If there was a door, it seemed to be set to stay open. 

“‘Cos I’m curious,” he shrugged. 

“You ever hear that expression?”

“Which one? Curiosity killed the cat?”

“Nah, the one that goes ‘shut the fuck up.’ That one’s one of my personal favorites. Very inspiring.”

“ _Ah, got it, Boss_ ,” Jesse spoke in Spanish. Smugness dripping from his tone.

Reyes sighed again.  “ _Don’t call me that. I'm not your boss_.” 

_Yet_ , Jesse thought. He had this feeling, despite the nervousness in his gut, that he would be staying here for quite a while.

Jesse was led through the large open door. The room that opened up beyond it was huge. It seemed to be a training area of some sort. The main room they’d walked into was full of gym equipment. On the right side of the room, training mats were set up that looked to be used for hand to hand combat. The very left side of the room, however, was another doorway, which Reyes started moving Jesse towards. 

Jesse’s mouth gaped when he stepped inside. The room was more narrow than the other ones, stretched out longer. A very expensive looking shooting range was built into the far wall. No targets were out at the moment, but Jesse could just tell it was one of the robotic ones. He’d never tried one of those out before, but he was more than eager to. 

Next to the shooting range at the far end of the room, someone stood. As Jesse approached, he noticed that they did not dress very officially. They were wearing sweats and a navy blue sweatshirt, none of that fancy workout shit. Their hair was a faded pink color, long and tied back to keep out of their eyes.

They saluted Reyes, albeit slightly lazily. 

“Agent Huber, this is Jesse McCree,” Reyes greeted. “I’d like you to run some tests on him for me.”

This ‘Agent Huber’ nodded at Jesse, then looked back to Reyes. They wore glasses, and their face was a bit round. 

“Yes, sir,” Agent Huber responded. He had an accent that Jesse couldn’t quite place.

Jesse felt Reyes reach down to start fiddling with Jesse’s handcuffs. “I’d like you to put him on the basic ranges first. Levels one, two, and four. Then move him up to the custom ranges we got. I’d say… two, three, and six. If he does incredibly on those see what he can do with nine.”

When Jesse's hands were free he immediately moved them to be in front of him. He rubbed at the pink lines that the cuffs left on his wrists, and enjoyed the brief moments of freedom. 

“Yes, commander,” Agent Huber responded again. “I’m assuming don’t let him out of my sight?”

“That would be right. I’m locking the training door behind me when I leave. After that, see how much he can lift and see how fast he can run a mile. Have his data saved and his training recorded. I’d like to watch it afterwards.”

“Very well, sir. What do I do with him after,” Huber asked. 

“I’ll be back before then. I just have to go have a quick meeting with someone.” Reyes turned his attention towards Jesse. He leaned in close, his voice stern and commanding and god damn intimidating “I don’t know if you still think this is a game at this point, but it’s not. If you start acting suspicious Agent Huber _will_  put the handcuffs back on or if necessary he _will_ shoot you. If he asks you to do something you better damn well do it. If you do anything out of line you’ve lost our little deal. Do you understand?”

“Yessir, I do indeed,” Jesse nodded. He glanced over at Agent Huber, who, while not much taller than Jesse, looked to be packing a serious amount of muscle. 

Reyes sighed again before nodding towards Agent Huber. “Call me if there’s any issues.”

“Of course, sir.”

Reyes nodded then turned, leaving out the way they came. Jesse heard the training room door shut. 

He turned towards Agent Huber and held out his hand. “I’m Jesse McCree. Pleasure to meet ya.”

Agent Huber took his hand and shook it. His grip was strong, and when he smiled at Jesse he bared his teeth a bit. “Agent Lukas Huber.”

“See, this has been the friendliest greetin’ I’ve gotten in the past few days,” Jesse grinned smugly. 

“Oh, that doesn’t surprise me,” Agent Huber laughed. He crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Yeah, your ol’ commander over there doesn’t seem t’ like me very much,” Jesse chuckled. 

“Ah, well, then I’m pleased to let you know I don’t much like you either.” His smile, again, wasn’t too friendly. 

Jesse nodded, not expecting much of a warm welcome. “Right, uh- we gonna get started with this?”

“Surely,” Agent Huber grinned. He made his way over towards the side of the room, where a large metal container was pushed against the wall. He pressed a few buttons and it opened, revealing multitudes of firepower. Jesse’s jaw dropped to the floor. “What would you like to start with?”

 

~~~

Gabe briskly made his way out of the unofficial “Blackwatch wing” and towards the more common and more populated halls of headquarters. It was still early, but everyone seemed to be waking up now and shaking off that lazy lull of sleep. He passed by common rooms and saw many more bunched up and chatting over coffee and still wearing their pajamas

Gabe had to stop himself from turning back and managing Jesse’s testing himself. He was slightly nervous about leaving an ex-Deadlock member with someone else. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Agent Huber, if anything Agent Huber was one of the only agents Gabe could trust with the job. Agent Huber was tough, one word out of him and people would suddenly have the urge to step down and submit. He was stern and took his jobs and orders very seriously, and didn’t tend to get cocky or overconfident. Gabe knew he was the only person who it made sense to leave Jesse with, so he didn’t know why it irked him so bad.

Jesse wasn’t really _all_  that dangerous, all things considered. He seemed eager to obey and stick with the deal that Gabe offered him, so he really had no reason to try and escape. He figured Jesse, albeit cocky, wasn’t stupid enough to _really_  think he could escape Overwatch HQ without getting himself killed. He didn't have an ID on him, and his picture had been given to the majority of patrols to look out for, just in case he does manage to sneak off unattended.

He tried to push the thought of Jesse out of his mind for the time being though. He was on his way to have tea with Captain Ana Amari, who had just returned from a two week leave with her daughter. Ana was a dear friend of both Gabe’s and Jack’s. The three of them had known each other for ages, and even as Gabe and Jack clung to whatever the hell their relationship was, Ana seemed to be the glue that held them together and talked sense into them. Ana Amari was a fantastic buffer between himself and Jack. She was the most clever person Gabriel knew, as well as the best shot. She tended to work more with Jack than she did with Gabe, but she was always willing to lend him a hand with training Blackwatch agents and assisting on missions. 

He was eager to speak with Ana, after it had been so long. He had spoken with her briefly through a secure phone line, mostly about politics and strategic advice. He hadn’t gotten a chance to ask her how her vacation went, or how her daughter was. It had been a while since he had been able to chat with Ana casually about something that wasn’t entirely work related. Gabe was hoping this break would be enough to ease his stress at least temporarily.

Gabe quickly reached Ana’s quarters. They were located near his, as well as other higher-ups in Overwatch. Their quarters tended to be grouped together and under quite considerable security compared to the other quarters at every single base of operation. 

Ana's quarters were very similar to his own layout-wise. Larger than the normal Overwatch member’s and perhaps a bit more luxurious. Their beds were larger and had proper bed frames supporting them. They had small kitchenettes to do their own cooking in, as well as their own mini common room to entertain guests and watch TV, or really do whatever they pleased.

He knew the layout of them well, and passed by the kitchenette into what he knew would be the lounge area. Gabe could smell the earthy scent of tea, as well as something a bit sweeter baking. 

The difference between his and Ana’s quarters was that she actually decorated. She had photos in every single spot they could be put. Gabe wondered if she’d start hanging them from the ceiling if she ran out of room elsewhere. She was also allowed to paint her quarters however she pleased, and her walls were a homely brown color that complemented the hardwood floors she got put in (Gabe still had no idea how she managed to get hardwood put in. He can hardly get someone up to his quarters to fix his toilet). 

She was already sitting down when he stepped through the doorway into the lounge. The table was already set though it was lacking food. She was waiting for him. 

Her lounge was possibly one of Gabe’s favorite places in this whole base. Her couches were a deep maroon, with homemade throw pillows that gave off that “grandma vibe.” She had three different blankets lying around, and she even had those decorative paintings in the pretty frames.

Before he could even say a word she looked up at him and beamed. “Oh Gabriel!” She stood from the table and he held his arms open, ready to accept a strong, motherly hug. She squeezed him tight, and he buried his face in her hair. 

“Ana! How was your trip?”

“Wonderful, absolutely wonderful, Gabe. So relaxing,” she sighed into his shirt. She pulled back and looked at him. Her smiled immediately faded  “You look worse than Jack. Why do you both refuse to take a few days off?  It's absolutely killing you.” 

 

“We- well, at least _I_  am fine, Ana. I have no idea how Jack is feeling,” Gabe replied. He was used to her slightly overbearing motherly ways. At this point it was more comforting than annoying. He knew she loved both him and Jack and would look after them as best as she could. 

“Ah yes,” she nodded with a bit of sarcasm. She stepped back from Gabe’s embrace and led him towards the table. They both relaxed into those incredibly comfy chairs before she continued. Gabe noticed that she was more dressed down than usual, wearing sweatpants and a cardigan. If only _he_  could dress that way and still have the same respect that she got from everyone. “He told me that you have been on a ‘break,’ is that right?”

“I don't even know at this point, Ana,” Gabe sighed. “I'm really in the dog house, I guess.”

Saying Gabe’s relationship with Jack was complicated was an understatement. He didn’t even like thinking about it too hard sometimes, afraid that the good memories would get overridden by the bad ones. He wanted to keep that sweet, pretty boy he called “Jackie” separate from Strike-Commander Jack Morrison.

“Yes, he told me you were being a ‘frustrating cocksucker,’ his exact words,” she laughed. “You boys really need a vacation. I'm telling you, it will work wonders.”

“Neither of us are in the place to be taking leave right now. The media and the U.N. are hounding us. We could barely survive without you being here, if I'm honest.” 

“Aw, poor Gabriel. You could have just called me for advice.” She had her arms propped up on the table and her legs crossed. Ana sat up with her back straight and her legs crossed, one elbow propped up on her knee. Even wearing the sweats, she still had this commanding aura around her.  

“It was your vacation. I didn't want to interrupt your and Fareeha’s trip with bullshit politics,” he grunted. He only spoke to her when he absolutely needed to, which was more often than he wanted to admit. “Jack has been handling it as well as he can.” 

“Yes, that's what he said as well,” she murmured. “So far my conversation with you has been remarkably similar to the one I had with Jack yesterday. I really do not understand how you both argue so frequently.” 

“Neither do I,” Gabe shrugged. “Anyway, how was California? Did Fareeha enjoy it?”

At the mention of her daughter, Ana’s eyes lit up and she beamed. “Oh it was lovely. She was in love with the place, Gabe. She could not believe how gorgeous the beaches were and how many people were there. I had to drag her off the boardwalk, she didn't want to leave.” 

“Understandably. She doesn't get much of that back home.”

“No, no she doesn't,” Ana said, her eyes downcast. “I feel bad. She is almost thirteen years old and already most of her childhood is over. She says she dislikes school, though her grades are quite impressive. She wants to come out here to live with me- but I just…”

“She misses you, too, I bet,” Gabe nodded in understanding. “Part of me wants to let her live here, but- this place is no place for a child.” 

Ana hummed in agreement. “No, no it is not.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Though, her summer break is coming up. I've been considering allowing her to spend the summer here, that surely couldn't do any harm. She'd love it for sure.”

“That could be done, like an internship” Gabe murmured, thinking about it. There were so many people here that she was somewhat familiar with, she would always have something to keep herself occupied with.

Gabe hadn't seen her since she was about eleven. Ana had Fareeha living in the city for awhile, but she had been moved back to Egypt for schooling when it was decided she needed a proper education. She was a sweet, ambitious little girl, thought quite rowdy. She was very tough and not intimidated easily, and would never back down from a challenge. Gabe knew she'd make an excellent soldier one day. 

“Perhaps I'll talk to Jack about it… I know she'd love to see Reinhardt again.” 

Gabe chuckled. “And I'm sure he would love to see her too.”

“It's incredible, really. When I am here, he gets an earful of information about her. When I am with Fareeha, it's just the opposite. She asks me for the latest on him, he asks me for the latest on her. I think they are each other’s biggest fans,” Ana laughed. 

“Quite convenient for you, then,” Gabe smirked. 

Ana opened her mouth, as if to argue, when the kettle started to screech. She frowned slightly before getting up to retrieve the tea. 

She poured the both of them a cup, and took the kettle back to the kitchen. Ana returned again, but this time with a plate of warm muffins. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love your cooking, Ana,” Gabe nearly moaned as he bit into one of them. He didn’t even know what they were, maybe walnut with cinnamon? He didn’t really care.

“Ahuh, usually when you want something from me, though,” she huffed playfully, bringing her teacup to her lips. She took a long sip then set it down. “What's been going on with you, Gabriel. Anything interesting?”

“Actually, now that you mention it, yes,” Gabe nodded. He took another bite of the warm, delicious muffin before setting it down. “Remember how Blackwatch was sent in to deal with that Deadlock situation down on Route 66?”

Ana’s eyes widened and she nodded. That infiltration had been in planning for a long while. “Yes, I'm hoping that went well?” 

“Yes, Agent Andersson suffered quite severe injuries, but she was the only one,” Gabe explained. “They were easy enough to clear out. There were many, but, they were not organized and seemed more interested in trying to surrender. We had many of them arrested and shipped off to prison, and killed the rest…”

“Well, that's good. How is Andersson? I remember she was a tough cookie. The one with the buzz cut, am I correct?”

“Yes, buzz cut. And she is a ‘tough cookie’ and she is fine. Doctor Ziegler works wonders with that sort of thing,” Gabe said.

“Oh, yes! It will be sad to see her go back to Switzerland,” Ana sighed. “She has done such good here.”

“Yes, she has, but I don't think she likes the politics and the- the violence of everything. She prefers to stay clear of conflict. So, she's been training up some of the others we have.”

“That is very good,” Ana suggested, more to herself than Gabe it seemed. “That girl is so smart and hardworking. I should introduce her to Fareeha.”

“That could be good for her,” Gabe agreed. “But, anyway, so-” He paused, unsure how to continue. “The one who injured Andersson, he was a scrawny, practically kid.” 

Ana gasped, then chuckled. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, gave her and Johnson quite the run for their money. He was clever, and made an attempt to run for it…”

“But you found him,” Ana urged him to continue.

“Yes, and… and I brought him back,” Gabe stated. 

Ana's reaction wasn't what he expected. She looked confused, momentarily, through she did not criticize him. “You brought back a _child_ from Deadlock gorge?” 

“Not a _chi_ _ld_. But, yeah, I did.”

“For what purpose?” She seemed curious if anything, her teacup hovering right in front of her mouth but not quite touching her lips.

“I just- I had this feeling about him, Ana,” Gabe muttered. He ran his fingers through his hair. “He just- he has potential, and… I was leaning towards recruiting him.”

Ana nodded and took another sip of her tea with a hum. “I’m assuming Jack is not on board?”

“Nope. No, he isn't, but- I think I convinced him to give the kid a try. He's being tested right now, I handed him off to Agent Huber.” 

“Ah,” she recognized the name with a smile. “He might scare the kid, no?”

“I'm hoping that's the case,” Gabe said. “I'm waiting on the results. He's seventeen and a cocky little guy. All scrawny and underfed. I don’t want to end up babysitting.”

Ana pursed her lips. “And you think he will be sufficient enough to be recruited, despite his age and background?”

“I'm hoping so. And besides, the U.N. don't even have to know. He'd be a part of Blackwatch, which the U.N. is… somewhat aware exists.” 

“Just, be careful Gabriel. I don't want this to blow up in your face.” 

“I don't either, but, I have a feeling about him,” Gabe repeated, perhaps more for himself than Ana.

Ana hummed in understanding, seemingly convinced enough by the look in Gabe’s eyes. “Is he a handful then? Fareeha is barely a teenager and she is already getting an attitude.” 

“Oh yeah, he's a cocky sonofabitch,” Gabe snorted. “But he doesn't seem too beyond repair. He managed to survive for the past six years by himself _somehow_.”

“Is he an orphan?”

“Yeah, lost his parents before he was ten. His government kind of gave up on him, y’know, like they tend to do over in the U.S.”

Ana winced. “What a poor child. Losing your parents at any age…”

“He doesn't seem phased by his situation, at all. He seems quite used to it.” 

“Hm, well, hopefully that's for the better.” Ana reached for her cup, taking another sip. 

“Oh- and get this Ana, he thinks he's a cowboy.” 

Ana looked up from behind her teacup. “You are kidding.” 

“No, he has the hat and a serape. Even talks like it. I can't decide if it's funny or annoying,” Gabe said. 

Ana shrugged. “Hm. Well, he seems like quite the character.” 

“Yes, yes he does.” 

Ana spaced out  for a moment, as if considering something. “Yes.” She peeked at Gabe’s almost empty teacup. “Would you like a refill?” 

“Yes, please.” 

 

~~~

 

Gabe stayed with Ana chatting for about an hour and a half. Their conversation drifted back and forth between Jack and Fareeha, politics, omnics, and Ana’s apparently severe concern for Gabe and Jack. 

“You both are strained. You need a break _together_  to recuperate and rebuild a steady relationship,” Ana sighed. “I hate seeing both of you like this.”

“I'm not even sure Jack wants anything between us anymore, Ana. If anything, maybe a quick fuck now and then, but I just- he's so distant,” Gabe murmured. “I miss him so much, but, I think he's changed.” 

“Both of you have, Gabe. _All_ of us have. I think you two both just need to have a long chat,” Ana suggested, gently and motherly. “And you've been distant too, don't just blame it on him.” 

“I- I don't know, Ana. There's just no time anymore and…” He trailed off.

“I know, Gabe. But, if you care about your relationship, then perhaps you need to make a sacrifice somewhere else.”

“We can't just leave. Especially right now. We're knee deep in shit and- and Jack would never want to. I think that-”

Gabe’s comm started beeping. “Ah- excuse me.” He went to silence it, but saw it was Agent Huber. “Ah, its Agent Huber. Do you mind if I…?”

“Not at all, Gabriel. Is it about that boy?”

“Probably,” Gabe groaned. He hope there weren't any mishaps. He pressed a button on his comm. “Commander Gabriel Reyes.”

“Commander, sir. We've just finished testing and I… he's-”

Gabe’s brow furrowed. He looked up and Ana had an eyebrow raised in curiosity took. Agent Huber never sounded very excited about anything, or seemed to display many emotions at all.. Gabe had never heard him speak in any other way than monotone or snarky. But- Agent Huber sounded in _awe_.

“Is there something wrong, Huber?” Gabe was slightly concerned. 

“No, sir. He's just,” Agent Huber paused and lowered his voice. “His shooting is incredible. He had to have been trained professionally.” 

Gabe's eyes widened. “He's an orphaned seventeen year old.”

“Well he's got a lot of potential. He's impatient when shooting, but- he got perfect scores on the first three ranges. And the _Blackwatch_  ones, he did very well all things considered and-”

“Send me all of his scores and recordings. And everything else. Are you finished?”

“He's finishing up his mile. He's bitching a hell of a lot, but I don't think he's trying too hard. I think he saw the look on my face after he finished the ranges and figured he didn't have to try too hard,” Agent Huber said. He was still murmuring. 

“Alright, I'll be heading over there now then to take him. Send the scores to Strike Commander Morrison too, if you will. Through the special channel with the encryption, you know the one.”

“Yes, sir. Agent Huber out.”

The comm call ended with a short beep.

“So, I guess your gut feeling was right, he's got potential,” Ana hummed. 

Gabe nodded. “If it's as good as Huber is making it sound then, well, I think Jack might just let me get away with this.”

“Hm. I'd like to meet him if I could. Perhaps I could help him with his shooting…”

“Are you sure Ana? He’s a handful.”

“Are you insinuating that I cannot handle a bratty child, Gabriel?”

“What! No, no, not at all, Ana. You're very capable, but…”

“Nonsense, Gabe. I'd be happy to assist you in anyway I can. I help with some of the others anyway,” Ana shrugged. “Maybe I could beat some of that cockiness out of him.” 

“Y’know, you're right. You might be the best for him,” Gabe chuckled. “Alright, Ana the tea was lovely.”

“Thank you, Gabe. I look forward to our next chat. I'll be stopping in soon,” she grinned.

Gabe nodded and then stood, leaning down to kiss Ana’s cheek before leaving out the way he came.

 

~~~

 

Gabe didn’t head straight towards the Blackwatch wing. He instead made a trip to the elevator and went two floors up to the offices. More official meeting rooms were on the higher floors, as well as office spaces and other places for negotiations. It was by far the most decorated and lavish, kept constantly clean and smooth as to appear professional. 

He pressed his thumb into the scanner and his door slid open and closed behind him. His desk was facing away from a large, thick window that took up most of the wall. The glass was of course bullet proof and tinted, but Gabe could easily see out of it if he chose to swivel his chair around.

He sat down in his desk and almost eagerly typed in the password to his computer. The large screen flickered to life, and he immediately searched for the file. 

He looked at the written results first. 

**Basic Training Number 1**

**Time: 1 minute 2 seconds**

**Accuracy: 99%**

**Targets hit: 20/20**

**Critical Kills: 15/20**

**Basic Training Number 2**

**Time: 1 minute 16 seconds**

**Accuracy: 100%**

**Targets hit: 20/20**

**Critical Kills: 13/20**

**Basic Training Number 4**

**Time: 1 minutes 47 second**

**Accuracy: 97%**

**Targets hit: 20/20**

**Critical Kills: 14/20**

**Custom Range 2**

**Time: 2 minutes 35 seconds**

**Accuracy: 86%**

**Targets hit: 35/35**

**Critical kills: 25/35**

**Custom Range 3**

**Time: 2 minutes 58 seconds**

**Accuracy: 84%**

**Targets hit: 40/40**

**Critical kills: 22/40**

** Custom Range 9 **

**Time: 3 minutes 45 seconds**

**Accuracy: 72%**

**Targets hit: 48/50**

**Critical Kills: 20/50**

 

Gabe read through the information twice, thoroughly surprised by the results. For a seventeen year old, this sort of shooting was incredible. It was definitely far from the best, anything less than 100% accuracy on the training ranges was questionable, but it was still astounding nonetheless. The kid was using a gun he wasn’t used too in a very different environment, but even without taking that under consideration, his results were impressive.

Gabe sat back and bit his lip, clicking on the video file underneath. A slightly grainy image of two people standing in the training room came online, a semi-transparent play button hovering in the middle.

He clicked on it and started to watch. 

The first few courses Jesse flew past. He probably could’ve done it faster, if the course actually allowed him to. The way the ranges were set up, different practice dummies were released at different times, followed different tracks, and hid themselves under different cover. So naturally, the higher the level, the more time it took Jesse to complete it.

Gabriel immediately caught weaknesses in the way Jesse was shooting. His stance was wrong, and he seemed to shoot without hesitation, which while good, could also lead to lower accuracy. Gabe, one of the least patient people he himself knew, was aware that patience was key in these sort of operations.

He could see in the videos, Jesse getting cocky and trying to speak with Agent Huber. Agent Huber ignored him, of course, but looked slightly irritated. He watched Jesse with a straight face, eyes trained on his moving form.

Jesse wasn’t afraid to move around while he shot either, or even to kneel down to get a better angle. He even tried to step forward once, only to be yelled at by Huber to take a step back. 

Gabe watched his progressive struggle in the custom courses. Those courses were ones that Gabe himself made to train Blackwatch agents. They weren’t just simple shoot the target sort of ranges. These ranges required strategy, patience, and certain skills, all of which Jesse seemed to lack entirely.

On the last course, Gabe watched him throw down his hat in defeat after aiming for the same two targets that seemed impossible for him to hit. At one point, he resorted to shooting randomly in the area to get them, which would really do nothing since this course was in fact sensitive to noise and motion, so the two dummies would not walk out until gunfire ceased, which Jesse couldn’t figure out. 

Gabe saved the files into a secret folder, then turned off his computer and sat back in his chair. He sighed and massaged his temples with his index fingers. 

“ _Ah, Gabriel, what have you gotten yourself into_.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andersson is my new favorite OC and I love her a lot. Also I'm sorry I'm awful at updating when I'm supposed to. Also, italicized dialogue means that they're speaking Spanish. I forgot if I've mentioned that already.

Upon finishing his tests, Jesse was immediately escorted by two straight-faced guards back to his holding cell. They didn’t speak to him at all, even when he asked them questions, which he thought was a bit rude. 

When he got back, he found his cell was just the same as he left it. The same boring cement walls, the same silent guard. Once again, he found his cell to be incredibly inane. 

After desperately searching for something to cure his boredom and finding absolutely nothing of interest, Jesse laid down on the sad little bed. The mattress was just as he remembered it, lumpy and disappointing, as was the single pillow that might as well have been just a pillow case. 

When his eyes finally fluttered closed (because frankly, somewhere in his mind registered absolute exhaustion after being forced to run around in circles for no reason), he found his about-to-be nap rudely interrupted by tapping on the bars of his cell.

“Oi. _C’mon, kid. Let’s go._ ”

Jesse opened one eye and spotted Commander Reyes  standing outside his cell door, about to press his thumb into the scanner. Jesse assumed that Reyes wanted him to speak Spanish, since that was the language that he was greeted in/ 

“ _Where?_ ”

“ _Gotta meet some people_.”

_“Are they important people? Because, not gonna lie, I smell about as nice as a rotten egg cooking on a sunny day_.” Jesse was acutely aware of how uncomfortable he felt dressed in sweaty clothing. That shower that he must’ve gotten when he was deposited into the medbay had long worn off.

Gabe frowned as Jesse approached. “ _You are not wrong. Jesus, kid_.” Jesse couldn’t tell if the look of disgust on his face was exaggerated or not. 

“ _Don’t blame me! Your damn asshat made me run around in circles for a goddamn hour_ ,” Jesse scowled. “ _Absolutely pointless._ ”

“ _Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Maybe I’ll show you to your quarters first so you can shower-_ ”

“My quarters?! So, I ain’t goin’ to jail! I’m stayin’?”

“ _Keep your voice down, kid. Why do you think I’m speaking in Spanish_ ,” Reyes hissed. He spared a glance at the security guard, who looked to be staring into an invisible void.

“ _Oh, right, right. But- I can stay, then?”_

Reyes sighed and rolled his eyes. “ _Probably. But don’t get too excited. Let’s go before you get your ass smell all over me_.”

 

~~~

 

Jesse found himself sitting in a conference room an hour later, feeling squeaky clean and fresher than he could ever remember. He scrubbed at the grime stuck on him for at least twenty minutes, reapplying soap over and over. He couldn’t believe how many layers of grime were stuck on his skin. He didn’t think he was _that_  disgusting. There was something incredibly satisfying about practically scrubbing your own skin off. He wouldn’t have put much effort into the cleaning though, if not for the fact that he was about to meet the “important people” Reyes kept referencing. 

He got to wash his hair too, which he discovered was filthier than his skin. His hair was slick with so much oil and grease and sweat. It felt wet before he even stepped under the spray of the water. He was almost surprised when he looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t seen himself in so long, or at least not in a proper mirror. 

Reyes had given him clean clothes to wear, because he insisted that wearing his old rags wouldn’t be appreciated. Jesse had given in begrudgingly, though he kept his hat on, which he frankly thought looked ridiculous paired up with borrowed and baggy Overwatch clothes. He wondered who the clothes belonged to. 

Reyes sat next to him in the conference room, glowering. He was dressed far more formally than he was earlier, in what looked to be a full uniform, stiff and pristine and uncomfortable. He had all sorts of medals and ribbons and clips on him, and Jesse wondered what they all meant.

“ _I don’t understand the hat._ ”

“ _It adds character_ ,” Jesse replied with a shrug. “ _And I like it. Think it makes me look good._ ”

“ _Makes you look like an idiot_ ,” Reyes corrected. 

Jesse frowned and crossed his arms. “ _That's_  rude.”

Reyes didn’t respond. Jesse sat in that chair for another ten minutes, fidgeting restlessly while he waited for these supposed “important” people. He was frankly tired and wanted a nap, preferably using that bed in the quarters Reyes had showed him. He really hoped he could stay.

When the doors finally slid open, Jesse looked up eagerly. He registered Reyes standing next to him, but didn’t get the memo that he should be standing too until he was elbowed considerably hard in the ribs. He stood just as Reyes had, straightening his back and making himself look as presentable as he could in borrowed clothes that visibly hung off his frame.

Through the door, walked three people. Two of them were wearing uniforms similar to Commander Reyes’. There were slight differences, in colors and medals, but overall seemed to portray the same thing: “important people.”

Jesse recognized the man in uniform from earlier, Strike Commander Jack Morrison, who Jesse still didn’t have an impression on. He didn’t seem too impressed earlier when he was being questioned, though he didn’t seem necessarily upset that Jesse was there. He looked stern, sure, but not as stern as Reyes. Maybe a smidgen more uptight.

The other person in uniform looked far cozier than either of the ones Commander Reyes or Strike Commander Morrison wore. Hers seemed to fit better, and didn’t seem as stiff. Jesse immediately noticed a tattoo under her eye, as well as a mischievous and almost pleased smile as she looked him over. It set Jesse on edge, reminding him of Deadlock when the higher ups were deciding whether he was still worth the trouble.

The third person who followed them was Doctor Ziegler, whom Jesse had spoken to earlier. She smiled gently when she saw him, and he smiled back.

“Strike-Commander Jack Morrison, Captain Ana Amari, and Doctor Angela Ziegler.” Reyes gestured to each person as he said their titles. Jesse was only really listening for the new person’s name- Captain Amari. 

Reyes sat down, and Jesse quickly followed in suit as the others took their seats as well, across from them. 

With very little preamble, the meeting started, and Reyes got down to business.

“This is Jesse McCree. Seventeen years of age. From New Mexico, United States. Member of the Deadlock Gang,” Gabe reported. Jesse didn’t necessarily understand why some of that information was necessary to share, though he didn’t argue. 

“He’s not even eighteen yet, Reyes?” Commander Morrison questioned. His glare was suddenly harsh, studying Jesse. 

“No. Not yet.”

“We can’t bring minors into-” Commander Morrison began, but was cut off by Captain Amari.

“Obviously he isn’t a complete child, Commander. Especially in the terms we are speaking of. I’m assuming you’ve seen combat situations?” She asked, staring at him. She had a stare that seemed to see through Jesse’s very being.

It took Jesse a few moments to realize he should answer.

“Oh, I- Yes ma’am. I seen, plenty o’ that.” He nodded. He glanced at Reyes next to him, who sighed as if he had done something wrong. Jesse immediately felt nerves bubbling in his belly. He didn’t want to screw this up. 

“In what ways,” Captain Amari implored. “Multiple times? Close range? Alone?”

“Well- uh- I’ve done a lot. I’ve won fist fights before, got in quite a few… I’ve been in lots o’ fights, with fists and with guns- or with both,” Jesse shrugged.

“What did Deadlock have you do?”

“Uh- well- kinda depended. They started me off with pickpocketin’ and scammin’, but as I got older and bigger I couldn’t really move as fast or hide in a crowd. An’ so, they put me on mission sorta things. Usually it was with other people. We did recon, or we’d go rob a place, or we’d go assassinate someone who Boss said needed to be, I guess,” Jesse explained. “I kinda jus’ did what they asked me. From pickin’ up their trash to… killin’ people.”

“You weren’t given much of a choice, were you?”

Jesse shook his head and laughed. He liked this Captain Amari already, even though they’d only been in the same room speaking for about five minutes. At first she put him on edge, but now she made him feel different. Something about her made him smile, made him feel not quite as nervous. 

“You kiddin’? I so much as hesitated I’da been thrown off a cliff back in the Gorge like that.” Jesse snapped his fingers. “Le’s just say that their punishments had a high mortality rate.”

“How did they punish people?”

 

“Well, depended a lot of the time on who it was and what they did. Like, if the person was screwin’ the boss, then usually nothin’d happen to ‘em. But if it was someone like _me_ \- well, that depends on /who’s doin’ the punishin’. An’-”

“Alright, we can ask him more in depth about Deadlock later, Captain,” Reyes interrupted. “We’ll save storytime for later. For now, Jesse- tell them what you did to my team.”

“Oh.” Jesse nodded. He stared up at the ceiling briefly. “I- I outran your sniper a couple times. I shot one of your people real good. An’ I outran _you_  a lil’ bit.”

“My sniper reported that they saw a scuffle on the roof. What was that?”

“Oh- uh- start of a punishment. Y’see, I may or may not’ve gotten distracted when I was s’possed to be lookin’ for you, an’ the Boss’ girl found me an’ naturally wasn’t too happy,” Jesse explained. “I reckon that’s why I had that bruisin’ on my stomach, Doc.”

Doctor Ziegler nodded. “I was wondering what had happened. It was extensive. I was afraid you were bleeding internally.” 

They continued morbidly “chatting”. They would ask Jesse questions, and he would answer them as well as he could. He didn’t want to lie to them, in case it just came back and bit him in the ass. He sure as hell did not want to end up in some jail on a bail he couldn’t afford. Hell, he couldn’t afford anything, jail or not.

They asked him about his family a few times. He couldn’t remember much, but tried to his best to give them the information they wanted. He wasn’t sure why they were so preoccupied with his history, although Doctor Ziegler looked slightly upset as he spoke about his parents.

“Alright, very little of this gives me any incentive to allow you to keep him, Reyes,” Commander Morrison finally interrupted. Jesse was glad that he did, because he was tired of answering questions about things that he didn’t necessarily like thinking about too much. 

Reyes glared at Morrison before nodding. “Fine.” He reached into his uniform and pulled out a large manilla envelope. “For the sake of having no records that can be hacked into or stolen; these are temporary physical records of Jesse’s test scores from earlier today.”

Reyes opened the envelope and pulled out a few sheets of paper. Jesse got only a glance at them before they were flipped upside down and slid across the table. 

Captain Amari tugged them closer to her, narrowing her eyes as she scanned them. Commander Morrison and Doctor Ziegler leaned in closer to read them as well. Doctor Ziegler was the only one who showed her surprise, which Jesse took as a good sign.

“As you can see, he had nearly perfect scores on the normal courses. These are things that _you_ would use to train new recruits before their first mission. I also had him try some of my custom Blackwatch courses. The results are impressive, if you consider his age and his lack of proper training. What I see here is potential. His talent would be wasted rotting away in some jail cell. 

And you’re right, Morrison, he’s not even eighteen. But that makes it even worse if you think about where we’d send him if we didn’t take him in. You know how the U.S. treats terrorists and criminals, and I believe that Jesse is _not_ a terrorist. If anything he’s just a- well, he got dealt bad cards. We can mold him into something better, and can give him a better life.” 

As they read through his test results, Reyes spoke. Jesse made a mental note to tease him about the speech, maybe a week or two later when he won’t be kicked to the curb for it.

Strike-Commander Morrison finally looked up from the papers. His gaze scanned over Jesse again, searching for something. Jesse wasn’t sure if he found it. 

“He can’t go on missions until he’s eighteen,” Commander Morrison said, directing his attention towards Reyes. “You know that, surely.”

“Of course,” Reyes nodded. “I’m not crazy.”

“I’d disagree,” Morrison sighed, quiet but loud enough that everyone heard him. Jesse swore he saw Captain Amari flash a smile. “Alright, if- _if_  we all agree on letting him stay, we have to agree on some things. Make up some paperwork, some systems to make sure everything is in working order. Not only is he seventeen, Doctor Ziegler has informed me that he is malnourished, and that he doesn’t even have basic education. We will have to do- something to keep him in line and rehabilitate him.”

“I agree,” Doctor Ziegler nodded. “Education is incredibly important. So is his health.”

She pulled some files from inside her doctor’s coat. “I have already made up a diet for him, that if he stays on for the next couple months should get him on the right track. Also, secondary school courses can be easily taken online, and they can be done at his own pace.” She turned her attention to Jesse and smiled. “And, I would be happy to assist you if I am not preoccupied elsewhere.”

“Thank ya’ kindly ma’am,” Jesse nodded to her, tipping his hat. 

“We can discuss a sort of… probation system later. For now, I think this meeting is over,” Commander Morrison announced. “As long as Jesse agrees with the terms we come up with… then… he can stay.”

Jesse cracked a smile. “There’s nothin’ y’all could put in that agreement that’s worse than what I’ve done before.”

 

~~~

 

“Geometry is impossible. I hate this. Put me in jail, boss.”

“Stop whining,” Reyes chastised him. “It can’t be that bad.”

“There’s so many triangles,” Jesse groaned. He aggressively shoved his face into the textbook in front of him, mumbling into the pages about how horrible it was.

They were sitting in the Blackwatch’s unofficial common room, in front of a large television that Reyes turned off when he found Jesse watching and not studying. 

“You only have to finish one more math course after this, and you never have to touch a math book again,” Reyes reminded him. “Nobody likes geometry. Suck it up.”

He was nursing a coffee, his feet propped up on the coffee table that served as a dining table more often than not. He was reading through mission reports and boring emails, as well as practically babysitting Blackwatch’s newest recruit.

“It just don’t make any sense,” Jesse sighed, exasperated. He sat up, nearly ripping a page from the book. “Can’t I just skip to the very end of the course, and take the test with the book in my lap? Nobody’ll know.”

“Yeah, and then you won’t know geometry. You might need it some time.”

“When will I _ever_  need to know triangle similarity theorems?”

Reyes pursed his lips. He lowered his tablet and stared at Jesse, who was looking at him with a pout and puppy dog eyes that could rival that of an actual dogs. 

“You won’t,” Reyes admitted. “But, you still have to do it. I remember doing it.” 

“What if I turn eighteen before I’m done with this? My birthday’s comin’ up pretty fast.”

“Then I guess you’ll be sitting back in base,” Reyes said. He stood up from where he was sitting and slipped his tablet into his jacket. He walked over to Jesse, and then bent down to look at what was on the page of the geometry textbook. “Sitting at base and learning about…” He trailed off, narrowing his eyes at the page. “The fuck is that?”

“Exactly,” Jesse exclaimed. He reached up to adjust his hat, then pressed it down further on his head so it covered it eyes. “Don’t make any goddamn sense.”

Reyes backed away from Jesse and his textbook. “Y’know, maybe you oughta start practicing your English.”

“D’anyone tell you that you’re damn rude?” Jesse scoffed. He tipped his head back against the back of the couch, reaching up to fix his hat that tried to escape his head. 

“Did anyone tell _you_  that I’m your commander and that I can command you to drop and give me fifty for insubordination?”

Jesse pursed his lips. “Fair enough, sir. Fair enough.”

Reyes huffed a laugh and walked over towards the kitchen. He made his way towards the coffeemaker, which at that point was nearly empty save for a few remaining sips of lukewarm coffee. 

Jesse watched him as he went, almost laughed at the face Reyes made when he saw the empty coffeepot. Instead he turned back towards his geometry textbook, scowling at the faded pages and words upon words of nonsense. Who would’ve known there would be so many words in math? 

“Hey, McCree!” Reyes called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, boss?”

Jesse was still staring down at the pages of his textbook, not reading, just looking at it. He couldn’t quite focus enough to try to make sense of the words. 

He heard Reyes’ footsteps as he walked out of the kitchen. 

“I was thinking, if you get through the test for the chapter you’re working on, and we can go visit the practice range tonight. How’s that sound?”

“Great, sir!” Jesse turned his head and beamed at him. “Y’know, am I gonna get my own gun soon, or-”

Reyes scoffed. “Keep dreaming, McCree.” 

“Already treating the new guy special, ay Commander?”

Jesse startled at the new voice, turning his head to look at the hallway to the left of the common room. Standing there was a member of Blackwatch, one that Jesse learned was called “Andersson,” also the one that he shot a few times back in Deadlock Gorge.

It wasn’t hard to tell that there were still some… _tensions_  between Jesse and Andersson. Jesse didn’t exactly blame her, he /did shoot her three times. He tried to keep the air between them as light and friendly as possible, though his efforts weren’t all that successful. 

Jesse almost couldn’t believe that he _had_  shot her at all. Andersson was incredibly intimidating without the adrenaline and fear running through his system. She stood shorter than him by quite a bit, but just a look from her made his blood run cold. Like most of the Blackwatch agents Jesse had met, she dressed darkly and seemed to be quite heavily muscled. That alone made Jesse nervous, considering he was sporting noodles for limbs. 

“Agent Andersson,” Reyes greeted. “Done napping?”

“You mean, going over the briefing for the mission this weekend,” she corrected him, smiling smugly. 

“I gave you the information packet this morning,” Reyes said. “Don’t tell me you’ve already read it all.”

“Fine then, I won’t tell you,” she scoffed. She turned her dark gaze back towards Jesse. “I don’t understand why you are giving him special treatment, Commander. He’s not even going on missions yet.”

“I’m preparing him for what he’ll face out on the field. Do you want to work with someone who can’t aim,” Reyes asked her. 

“We all saw his scores, he can shoot just fine. In my personal opinion, you coaching him through shooting bots isn’t going to do him any good. He should be practicing with the team in actual simulations,” she shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Yeah, well, why don’t you tell Morrison that Blackwatch wants to use the training simulation arena,” Reyes laughed. 

Andersson smiled smugly. “I’m sure you could be _very_  persuasive over him, Commander,” she practically sing-songed. Andersson walked past Reyes without another word, immediately going for the fridge.

Jesse furrowed his brow, not quite sure of what he just witnessed. All he knew was that Reyes did not look happy about that dig, if that _was_  a dig at all. 

“Uh- sir-” Jesse started.

Reyes turned towards him with perturbed scowl. “Get back to reading, Jesse. If you’re not done by dinner I’m not letting you use the range.” He strode off then, right out of the Blackwatch wing.

Jesse looked back at the kitchen, seeing Andersson at the counter making what looked like cereal. 

“Andersson, what the hell was that about?”

“It’s about time boss used his relationship with pretty boy to get what we deserve,” she explained, her tone bitter.

“Relationship?”

She set down her spoon and looked up at Jesse curiously. “Wow, you really aren’t observant are you?” She twisted the cap on the milk carton before continuing. “Reyes and Morrison have been boning since like, before Overwatch, I’m pretty sure. I think now it’s more angry boning, but it’s boning, nonetheless.”

“Huh, that’s uh- huh,” Jesse murmured to himself. When Jesse heard that rumor about Morrison’s lover, he didn’t exactly expect his lover to be /Reyes. He wasn’t sure why the thought of it stuck on him so weirdly.

“What? Got a problem with it, McCree?”

“Nah, nah- it’s not- no. No problem,” Jesse stammered. “Yer distractin’, me. Lemme get back to my work.”

Andersson scoffed. She picked up her bowl of cereal and a spoon, and started to walk back towards the rooms.

“Whatever you say, kid.” She said it with a giggle and it that sing-song voice again. Jesse didn’t know why it irked him so badly.

He turned back to his textbook, frowning. The thing must be outdated as hell, or at least, that was the excuse he was using for why he didn’t understand any of it. He could, of course, read the information off of his tablet, but it hurt his eyes to stare at the tiny print for too long on a bright screen. Again, another excuse, but nobody had said anything about it yet so he really didn’t care.

He huffed and adjusted his hat once again, before /finally forcing himself to read the damn material so he could use the shooting range later tonight.

 

~~~

 

“McCree!”

Jesse jumped, spinning on his heel to face his Commander. Of course, he just had to be snuck up on when half of a doughnut was stuffed in his maw. Definitely was not a moment he was particularly proud of, as he rubbed his mouth on his sleeve.

“Yes, sir!”

“What are you eating at- 0300? What the hell are you doing?” 

Jesse chuckled nervously. He reached up subconsciously to fidget with his hat, which of course was not on his head but instead back in his room. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Jesse explained. 

All of the lights in the Blackwatch wing were currently off, except for the one light over the sink in the kitchen. The light was old and flickered on and off incessantly, casting Commander Reyes’ face in what Jesse considered to be a spooky glow. 

“So you… snuck into the kitchen to eat a…” Reyes stepped closer, and frowned at the half-eaten doughnut he saw in Jesse’s hand. “...a doughnut.” He then peered up at Jesse’s face, and Jesse could tell that he could _definitely_  see the crumbs and chocolate smudges.

“You wouldn’t ‘ve let me if I tried to eat one tomorrow mornin’,” Jesse said. As if that was an excuse. He was acutely aware of how the chocolate frosting was melting into his fingers, and really wished he would’ve gripped it differently when he made that horrible attempt at hiding it from his commander. He figured excusing himself for a napkin would be slightly inappropriate, so he waited. 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have. Because you’re supposed to be following Ziegler’s diet-” 

“Boss, her diet is _bullshit_. I can only eat so much kale and chicken, sir. You don’t understand,” Jesse complained. 

“I do. She tried to put us all on a diet. At this point, she is just happy that we all take our vitamins everyday,” Reyes chuckled. “Anyway, I would’ve let you have a damn doughnut, McCree. You do, you realize that this isn’t prison right? You may be on probation, but a doughnut isn’t going to put any of us at risk unless you know of any way to make it into a bomb using the saliva in your mouth.” 

Jesse nodded. “I’m sorry, I jus’- I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“Did you seriously think I’d _punish_ you, for eating something off your diet?”

“I- I dunno, sir. I’m not- exactly sure what’s allowed and what ain’t allowed, y’know?” Jesse looked away from Reyes’ face and towards the floor. He spotted his bare feet on the ground. How long had it been since he felt comfortable enough to take off his shoes? To know that he wouldn’t need to get up and run in the middle of the night? The thought of it seemed crazy, since he’d only been with Overwatch for two weeks at that point. How could he feel comfortable, as if the finger scanner on his door would protect him from _anybody_? Did he seriously already trust the people that are here?

“McCree? You in there?” Reyes snapped his fingers in front of Jesse’s face, bringing his attention away from the void of his mind and into reality. “You alright?”

Jesse didn’t answer at first. He looked back at his bare feet. In the darkness he couldn’t see them, but he could feel them. He could wriggle his toes against the cold hardwood floors of his new… _home_? He could feel his back pressed against the counter behind him, the one where he had opened that box of doughnuts and nabbed one for a midnight snack. His shirt had ridden up, and he could feel his warm skin touch the cool marble. 

“I- I don’ rightly know, sir. I- I took my shoes off. Even my damn socks.”

“Well, I believe it was Marsh that forced you to wash your socks,” Reyes replied, a quiet joking town underlining his words. Jesse could see it in his face, a small smile, along with slight concern. “They were worried about foot fungi and infectious disease from such a filthy _ingrate_.”

Jesse hesitantly said his next words, his voice barely a whisper. “Is that what you believe I am, sir?” 

Reyes pursed his lips then. Jesse watched him with this sort of hope bubbling in his chest. It was silly, really, to depend on this /stranger for any sort of praise. Why did Jesse _need_   Reyes to say that he wasn’t an ingrate so damn badly? Jesse looked for any sort of tell, anything to confirm that maybe he wasn’t all that awful.

“McCree, let’s go for a walk.”

“Oh- uh- sir, I’m not really supposed to leave. ‘Specially at nigh-” Jesse stopped stammering when Reyes raised his eyebrow at him. “Oh, yeah, of course sir. Yeah. Lemme, go, uh- put shoes on.”

Two minutes later, Jesse was walking side by side with his new commander. They walked down many hallways. All of their lights were on, but they were dimmed. Especially near quarters or common rooms. It was damn eerie, and made Jesse feel nervous. He kept himself on his toes, surprisingly awake for how early in the morning it was. 

He reached up to touch his hat, which, of course he put back on when he went to fetch his shoes. Reyes didn’t mention it, which Jesse was grateful for. 

Every corner they passed, Jesse found himself peering deeply into, to make sure nothing was creeping up on them in the dark. He felt naked, walking around in his pajamas with no weapon at his side. Of course, he’d felt naked all this time he supposed, without any sort of gun at his side. But it was different, since he didn’t make a habit of walking the halls at night in an unfamiliar place.

Their shoes squeaked on the tile floors. That, along with the rustling of their clothing made Jesse feel uneasy. They were making too much noise. 

“ _Doesn’t this creep you out, McCree? It reminds me of a hospital. You ever been in one of those, even during the day? Eerie as hell_.”

Jesse wasn’t expecting for his commander to speak. It took him a few moments to realize what exactly he said, and to also realize those really weren’t words he was expecting to come from Reyes’ mouth. He spoke in Spanish too. Jesse picked up quickly that Reyes spoke in Spanish only in instances when he didn’t want to be monitored. Of course, there were plenty of people that spoke Spanish in the world. If they were being recorded, it could easily be translated. But Jesse assumed that, it was perhaps just a bit safer. Even if they were only talking about how spooky hospitals were.

“ _Oh- uh- yeah, I’ve only been in them a few times. I don’t like them either. Don’t really think anybody does,_ ” Jesse agreed. “ _Never at night though. I was, real young when I was in one. And they got something against kids staying any longer than absolutely necessary_.” Jesse paused, in thought. “ _Which, is kinda cruel, when you think about it. Think about all those kids… possibly seeing their family for the last time. You’d think they’d be more sympathetic_.”

Reyes hummed. “ _Yes. It’s so that they can do their jobs better, and that they aren’t disturbed. But, I’m fairly sure a child mourning over their loved one isn’t going to cause all that much trouble._ ”

“ _Exactly,_ ” Jesse exclaimed. “ _People really don’t give young people that much credit. I know we’re still growing and stuff, but… doesn’t mean we’re completely awful._ ”

“ _It’s easier to throw the good apples in with all the rotten ones, that way in the long run, nobody can get fucked over all that badly,_ ” Reyes explained. “ _It’s convenient and easy. Also, the American way of running everything_.” He chuckled as he spoke.

_“It’s damn stupid. It’s really unfair._ ”

“ _Do I really have to tell you now that life is unfair, McCree. You, of all people, surely know that.”_

_ “No, I know. I was just- saying.”  _

They slowly fell into a silence, a silence filled with squeaky sneakers. Jesse was surprised they hadn’t run into anybody else walking the halls. He would’ve thought that there would be patrols out, at least. 

Eventually, they came to a door. This, of course, was after walking up multiple flights of stairs. Apparently, Reyes had something against using the elevators at night. 

Reyes pressed his thumb to the scanner on the door, and then pushed it open. That was the first door Jesse had seen that had to be manually pushed open in this whole building. Even the bathroom doors slid open.

Once it was opened, Jesse immediately felt a cool breeze on his face. He shivered, gripping his arms as if that would shield him from the cold. He peeked out the door, and when he looked up he saw the night sky.

“ _After you, McCree._ ”

Jesse didn’t respond, just numbly walked through the door that Reyes held open for him. He stepped through slowly at first, but once he truly felt the fresh air on his skin, he practically ran out into it. 

Jesse couldn’t believe how much he had missed the outside. It hit him like a truck, how amazing fresh air felt on his bare cheeks. He felt freer the second he took a breath of air that didn’t smell sterile. It smelled slightly like pollution, sure, but it was still fresh air. 

The sound of outside immediately invaded his senses. The inside of the building was so insulated, so cut off. He could actually hear the engines of hovercars and of horns honking from up there. 

The roof he stepped out onto was, well, just a roof. It was mostly empty, and he didn’t really particularly care about the AC unit and water heater that was hooked up in the corner. Instead, all he really cared about was running right to the edge of the building.

There was a railing, which, Jesse briefly noted was there for a damn good reason. He gripped onto it with both his hands, feeling the chill of cold metal seep into his fingertips. 

He looked down on the streets below. They were _so_  far down. He could only make out the vague shape of vehicles and lights. The streets were empty of individual people though. He supposed it was a bit early for even the earliest of early birds to take a walk.

He stared up at the sky. It was still dark, a deep blue with a very slight haze of red. There weren’t any clouds, nor were their any stars. He saw multiple blinking lights though, streaking the sky. Commercial airliners, he figured.

He barely registered the sound of footsteps behind him. He was too distracted, too overwhelmed, too at peace.

“I figured, you didn’t feel that great being all cooped up.”

Reyes’ voice. It was familiar, and Jesse welcomed the comfort that came with it. 

“No, it didn’t. I- Thanks.”

There wasn’t a response at first. Jesse was too busy staring at airplanes going by, too up high to hear the roar of their engines. 

“Uh- yeah. No problem. I could tell it was getting to you. Once you’re eighteen and going on missions, it’ll be better,” Reyes said. 

Jesse felt him settle on his left side, didn’t even have to look at him. He could feel the warmth of his arm as it brushed his own, could hear the rustle of fabric.

“I come out here to smoke, sometimes,” Reyes said, after awhile of silence. Jesse looked over then, to see Reyes pull a lighter from his pocket. He passed it to Jesse. “Hold this.”

Jesse took the lighter in his hand. It was warm from being in Reyes’ pocket. He couldn’t see it all that well in the dark, though he could tell there was something inscribed on it. Jesse rubbed his thumb over the design, or letters, or whatever it was.

The lighting up on the roof wasn’t all that great. There was one big street lamp thing in every corner of the roof, the creepy ones they used in parking garages that gave off that orange glow.

He watched Reyes pull a pack of half-empty cigarettes from his pocket. Jesse licked his lips.

“Can I have one, sir? I haven’t had one since comin’ here, and-”

“No. You should quit. Smoking is bad for you,” Reyes said sternly, even as he passed a cigarette over to Jesse. 

Jesse almost wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. He just smirked to himself, as he slid the cigarette between his lips. He flicked the lighter on, watching as the flame just barely illuminated his hands and sleeves. He brought the lighter up to the end of his cigarette. 

Jesse knew it was bad. _Everyone_  knew it was a bad habit. It was familiar though, a way to keep his hands steady when shit was really hitting the fan. He inhaled deeply, practically moaning at the taste of it. 

Reyes took it back once he was done, lighting his own cigarette as he stowed the pack away in his pocket.

“If I see you smoking another one anytime after this, I’ll tell Ziegler.”

“Damn, if that ain’t a threat,” Jesse huffed. Even after being here for two weeks, Jesse already got the impression that Ziegler was a force to be reckoned with.

Everyone respected her, from the sanitation staff up to Strike-Commander Morrison. Jesse could tell, she was one of the backbones of the organization. Without her, well, Overwatch wouldn’t have nearly as many operatives, or nearly as much respect as it did. Not to mention how smart she was. She was one of those smart people that not only memorized and understood the shit other smart people did, but she did all of this new smart shit herself. It was damn impressive. Jesse also found that she was  scary if someone even mentioned something unhealthy. 

“Yeah, well, you really shouldn’t be having one. But- I wasn’t gonna tease you by smoking one next to you,” Reyes explained. “That would be cruel.”

“I’m happy you ain’t so cruel, sir.”

“You better damn be. I have to really force myself to be nice to you, McCree.”

“Mhm. Sure,” Jesse laughed. “I think, maybe it’s ‘cuz you know I ain’t terrible.”

“I think it’s because the media would have my head on a platter if they found out I was being mean to a seventeen year old orphaned kid,” Reyes scoffed.

“Ah- yeah, that too,” Jesse nodded. He sighed deeply. “I dunno how I feel about this place yet, sir.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s still… weird, bein’ here I guess. I’m obviously comfortable enough to take off my shoes, but not enough to eat sweets in the dark,” Jesse laughed. “It sounds ridiculous as I say it out loud, but-”

“No. I get you.” Reyes sighed. He took another deep breath, then breathed out deeply. Jesse watched him, watched him in the faint light that was casted onto him. “It’s a new environment. Your body and mind is used to being ready to run, to defend yourself, to not trust anything. And… we’re asking you for a lot of trust…”

“Yeah, actually, exactly that,” Jesse breathed out. He reached up to feel the rough material of his hat, adjusting it a bit. “How ‘m I supposed to trust y’all, if y’all don’t trust me?”

“Well, to be fair, we’ve treated you as nicely as we would, which some could argue you don’t deserve. It’s hard to trust an ex-gang member, keep in mind. But, so far, you’re not doing anything suspicious. Even Morrison is impressed with how your aim has improved. You’re getting better and better everyday, which makes you an _asset._ And, let me tell you, McCree, it sounds awful, but in this situation, you _need_  to stay useful. Until you’ve proved yourself, stay useful. Keep the upper hand. You’re fine for now, right. You have tons of intel on not only Deadlock, but the operations of other gangs. _And_ , once you’re eighteen, you’ll prove to be a fine agent. So, right now… I’d say you’re in the clear.”

Jesse took awhile to process what he was being told. He flushed at what Reyes said, registering it as a very _strange_ compliment at the very least. 

“I- thank you, sir. A lot. That means… wow,” Jesse stammered. He looked over at Reyes, flashing a smug grin. “You ain’t too bad yourself.”

Reyes barked a laugh at that, violently enough that his cigarette went flying out of his mouth and over the edge of the building. His laugh, _his_  real laugh, made Jesse smile. Perhaps it was the fact that he got Reyes to laugh like that at all, that made his laugh sound like beautiful music, the classical shit that made people cry. 

“Damn, McCree, that’s the- oh Jesus Christ,” he laughed. “That’s- that’s the funniest damn thing I’ve heard in a- in a long time.”

Jesse couldn’t help but beam.

 

~~~

 

“You really like that gun, don’t you?”

Gabe watched his newest recruit, leaning back against the far wall of the shooting range. He crossed his arms over his chest, followed each and every movement McCree made as he went through this particular course. This was one of the new ones that Gabe hadn’t given him initially. Since McCree had improved significantly in those custom courses, he wanted to have him move onto harder targets. 

They moved quickly, were smaller, and had an actual learning system in their programming. They knew to hide behind cover, could hear gunshots and learned the shooter’s habits. 

McCree was struggling with this course. He had a habit of expecting the targets to walk straight into gunfire, which, yes sometimes they _did_  if they did not expect an attack. But, most enemies wouldn’t be that stupid, especially the ones he would be facing in the field. 

“Yeah, I do, sir. It’s similar to my old one, y’know? Got the same weight in my hand, ‘cept this ones new and doesn’t break all the damn time.” He waited until a lull in the gunfire before speaking. He actually paused this time, gun held, waiting for a particular target to step out of cover. 

“You figuring out how this works yet?” 

“Kinda. It’s jus- they all move differently each time. There’s no pattern.” 

“Humans and omnics won’t walk straight at the barrel of your gun, McCree. They aren’t stupid,” Gabe explained. He shifted forward, putting less weight on the wall. He pointed, even though McCree wasn’t looking back and couldn’t see where he was pointing. “Not to mention, while you were focusing on this particular target, you let three of them run to cover without taking a single shot at ‘em.”

McCree shifted his gaze away from the bot he was aiming at, and cursed as he spotted three targets in different places than they last were. 

“This shit is too high tech,” McCree grumbled. “It’s dumb.”

“It trains our agents better than a few stationary red and white targets would.”

“Yeah, I guess- but-”

“You just don’t like this because it’s challenging you, and it’s hard for you.” Gabe paused. He walked closer to McCree, stood a few paces behind him. “You’re used to being great at shooting, and now that I’m presenting you with something that challenges your skills, you’re realizing that you’re not as good as you first thought, and that you actually need to change your strategy. It is not ‘dumb.’ What’s ‘dumb’ is that _you_ , are giving up just because you didn’t get it on the first try.”

McCree turned to face Gabe, scowling. Gabe could tell how wound up he was, the way he was standing, as if his body was being compacted where he stood. He learned more and more about McCree everyday, and one of the things he’d learned was that McCree got frustrated /very easily. 

“I ain’t givin’ up,” McCree argued, voice raising. “And it ain’t hard!”

“Then show me, cowboy,” Gabe said, gesturing to the range. “Show me it’s not hard and that you can do it. All I see right now, is you acting without any thought. /Think about what you’re doing. Do you understand?”

McCree glared, and didn’t bother to respond to Gabe’s question as he turned back to the range.

“Athena, can you reset the range, please?”

The AI responded with a yes, and the machinery in the range started to reverse itself back to the beginning of the course.

Gabe found it hilarious that McCree could sometimes be more polite to the damn AI than to him. 

Gabe backed up a few paces, and stood watching as McCree started the course again. Immediately, Gabe noticed a difference. It was a very slight difference, but a difference nonetheless. McCree went slower, watched how the bots moved before raising his gun and taking a shot. He didn’t pepper barricades with gunfire, but instead waited for a better shot before wasting ammunition. It helped a bit, even as he got stuck and frustrated with another target at another point in the course. Gabe couldn’t place what exactly was off with his shooting, but there was _something; something_  was holding him back. 

Gabe let McCree struggle for awhile. He got wound up and frustrated easily, and Gabe figured letting a few anger-fueled shots off might make him feel better. After all, Gabe couldn’t exactly take him up to the roof every single time his new recruit got upset. 

Ten minutes passed before Gabe finally stopped him. “Alright, McCree. Put the gun away. Training tomorrow morning at the same time, you know the drill. Go take a shower or something, cool down.”

McCree didn’t respond directly, but did listen to him at least. He didn’t put the gun away as gently as he probably should have, but it was _away_  and he did _leave_ the training area without sparing a single glance towards Gabe. 

 

~~~

Twenty minutes later, Gabe was sitting in his office, debating on whether he should actually start reading reports or leave them for tomorrow. He wasn’t sure if he felt like reading up on mundane mission reports and casualty counts, or if he wanted to reply to the email with a poll for whether ice cream should be an added option in the cafeteria. 

He sat back in his office chair, his hands gripped on the arm rests. His office chair might’ve been the most indulgent thing he owned. It was large and comfy, firm enough to give his body support, but also soft enough to ease his back pain. He’d had it for a couple years now, and even as the faux leather started peeling, the chair still did its job. He could almost forget about the way his back ached every single time he sat down in the old thing. 

He sat up, rolling the chair closer to his desk and _forcing_  himself to work. He scrolled through his emails, trashing things he really did not care about reading. The amount of shit people tried to complain about was ridiculous, and why these matters even involved _him_  of all people made no sense to him.

The only emails he tended to care about were ones from his own agents, Ana, or Angela. He didn’t read emails Jack sent him unless Ana forwarded them to him, just because emails from Jack were usually just bitching if they didn’t involve agents or missions. His own agents never emailed him either, because they weren’t children and talked with him /face to face. 

He cleared out his emails, finding that most of them were stupid and pointless. Nothing from anybody he needed to hear from, so he really didn’t have much to do except for paperwork. 

His mind floated over to McCree, since really it wasn’t occupied with much else. McCree had been with Overwatch for a little over two weeks at that point, which meant he had about three weeks left in his probation. 

As of now, Gabe was immensely pleased at how McCree was adjusting. Skill wise, McCree was improving. It had only been two weeks, and already he was starting to understand that there was a bit more to shooting than just knowing how to pull the trigger. His scores in the ranges were improving every day, as was his health overall. 

Angela’s diet was helping McCree fill out immensely, and already Gabe swore that the kid looked less dead than he had when he arrived. Two weeks of proper nutrition was already filling out his noodle arms, and with that proper nutrition came the ability to start actually training his new recruit. Gabe was almost surprised at how little stamina McCree had for everything except for running. He couldn’t handle more than fifteen push-ups at a time, and even then, his muscles shook while he was doing them. 

It was definitely something he was concerned about. McCree needed to be trained in hand-to-hand combat, as well as long range combat. Gabe knew that if he threw McCree into a match with one of the other agents, he would be crushed. 

He hoped that soon he could start training him in full, as opposed to the half-assed shit he was putting him through. He wanted McCree to be ready to go on missions as soon as he was eighteen, but at the moment, it wasn’t looking like that was possible. 

Not to mention, a part of the agreement they’d written up for McCree required him to finish his basic education before he could participate in anything. Last time Gabe checked his progress, McCree still had no idea what triangles were, and if he would’ve known that the education thing would be the thing the kid got stuck on, well, he would’ve went about this differently. 

McCree was going to be eighteen soon, and Gabe really needed to figure out how to push him along so that he would be useful once Gabe was able to use him.

He decided that it was time to bring Ana into the situation. 

 

~~~

 

“Gabriel, I know you want him to be ready, but you are aware his birthday is in three weeks, correct? What you are asking from him, and from me, is impossible.”

Gabe took a deep breath. Ana was with him this time, in the training room. McCree was at the range, warming up with an easy course. 

She was watching McCree as she spoke, her eyes following his every movement. When he raised his arm, as he pulled the trigger. As he stepped back, how his arm shifted, as his fingers twitched, how he bit his lip as he aimed.

“I need him _ready_ , Ana.”

“What exactly are you going to be doing with him, Gabriel? You cannot just, throw him into missions either, I’m sure you are aware. Especially high-risk ones,” she tutted. “Have you been guiding him at _all_  with his shooting, or have you just been telling him what he’s been doing wrong?”

“Why? He’s shooting great.”

“Yes, but he’s not- he’s not wielding a shotgun, Gabriel. He needs to _aim_ with his gun _properly_ ,” Ana mumbled. She bit her lip. “I can- I am more than happy to help you with your little protégé-”

“He is not my-”

“However, you cannot expect me to rush this at all. You realize he has had no formal training. He has most likely done, well, practically _nothing_  requiring any sort of teamwork. Have you taught him what to do when an enemy gets closer than they should be?”

“I can’t exactly teach noodle-armed cowboy how to professionally fight, Ana. And- he _did_ mention knowing how to.”

“How to dodge, most likely. How to play dirty, be sneaky. You _know_  our enemies won’t give him that opportunity,” she sighed. She sounded worried, that motherly tone sneaking into her words. “What has Doctor Ziegler said about this?”

“...She doesn’t want him fighting just yet.”

“Mhm. I agree,” Ana murmured. She was still following McCree’s movements closely. “I would like to take over this aspect of his training.”

Gabe bit his lip, the words “no” forming on his tongue. He trusted Ana, he did, but McCree was _his_  to train. At the same time, though, Ana might be better for him in this respect.

Gabe let out a deep sigh through his nose. “Alright. I want to supervise, but-”

“Oh hush, Gabriel. I am not going to be kicking you out of your own training room.” She pursed her lips. “Why don’t you ask Jack if you can start taking him to the training arena? He would benefit from some training with the others.”

“Everybody is telling me this as if Jack actually wants to speak to me at all,” Gabe grumbled. 

“Oh, just ask nicely, Gabriel. Say please, perhaps.”

She took a deep breath then, before marching out towards McCree.

Gabe stood back watching as she approached, far closer than he would even get to someone who was getting frustrated with a gun in his hand.

Ana touched his shoulder, and spoke to him quietly. McCree looked startled at her appearance, though as he settled, he laughed at whatever she said. Gabe watched her, watched McCree. He responded to her adjustments well, moving his arms how she was showing him, looking where she pointed, listening to her words, listening to her in /general. He huffed, shaking his head with a small smile on his lips. It was incredible how Ana could do these sorts of things.

Gabe could definitely consider the change in McCree to be an improvement. After only three days, Ana did /something to him.  McCree looked relaxed when he shot. He didn’t hold his breath with each shot, but instead moved as if the gun was a physical extension of himself. He wasn’t stiff, he paused, he breathed, he moved with a fluency and shot with an accuracy that was spectacular. It was quite the sight, to see him shoot as if he was dancing, as if the gunshots were the beat to his music. 

 

Ana was a miracle worker.

 

~~~

 

“So, how has he been adjusting?”

Gabe looked up from his papers, frowning. Jack Morrison stood in his open doorway, dressed down in a white Overwatch t-shirt and sweats for /once in his damn life. 

The fact that Jack could get into his office so easily irked him already, not to mention how Gabe didn’t even /hear his door opening.

“What do you want, Morrison? I’m busy,” Gabe muttered.

He didn’t want to talk, not when he was still sorting out paperwork from the last iffy mission he’d just gotten back from. He was genuinely upset that they were even sent in at all, with how unclear their intel was. One of his agents was in critical condition, thanks to that damn mission, thanks to his own _failure_. It didn’t sit right with him, knowing that he willingly allowed his agents to participate in something with such approximate knowledge. 

“Wanted to ask you about your little pet project. The cowboy?”

“I’m not in the mood for this right now,” Gabe snapped. He didn’t have much patience for _anybody_ , and would much rather be locked in his office all damn day. 

Jack didn’t respond right away, and Gabe huffed and looked back down at his reports. Too much paper. Too many fancy words to get the notion across that the mission was a failure. He hoped that maybe Jack would just leave. But instead, he heard the scraping of one of his chairs on the other side of his desk, and then the sound of Jack grunting as he settled into it.

“Can you just, stop being moody and listen to me for a second?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be moody if you did your damn job and made sure my team wasn’t walking into a suicide mission,” Gabe barked, his voice raising as each word was uttered. He didn’t want to look at Jack, kept staring at meaningless words. 

“I didn’t know it was going to go like that, Reyes. I would /never give you a mission I didn’t think your team couldn’t handle,” Jack argued. He wasn’t as loud as Gabe, but his raise in volume was a direct response to Gabe’s anger.

“Y’know, you could’ve just said sorry for practically killing one of my damn agents, and injuring everybody else. You don’t have to pretend like I care about your  reputation and the stupid blaming game you like to play,” Gabe growled. He slammed his fist down on his desk and looked up at Jack. “You don’t even look sorry for it!”

“You can’t _blame_ me for your team not being able to handle-”

“That is _utter_  bullshit, Jack,” Gabe replied. Anger was seeping through his veins, making his skin hot. “How am I supposed to trust you, when you’re sending my team into bullshit missions, huh?”

“I. Didn’t. Know.” Jack replied. His face was set into a cold scowl. “Stop accusing people of shit, how about that, huh? I say you’re pretty good at playing that ‘blaming game’ too.” Jack took a deep breath, practically a huff, before speaking again. His tone was lowered, but still held that stern sort of superiority, as if he was certain that he wasn’t at fault. “I just wanted to ask about your new agent’s progr-”

“You mean you came in so that you can bitch to me about every single little thing I do,” Gabe corrected him. “Listen, Jack, I really don’t have time for this bullshit.”

“You don’t have time for anything,” Jack scoffed. 

His face was still red. It used to amuse Gabriel, how his pale skin meant that anger or embarrassment were displayed clearly on his face. Now, it just pissed him off. He didn’t have any _right_  to be angry.

“I don’t have time for you making my damn job harder!”

“You’re one to talk!” Jack stood at that, pushing back his chair hard enough that it tipped over onto the floor. The metal legs clattered with the hardwood. “Why are you /so damn hard to discuss anything with!”

“You’re one to talk,” Gabe mocked. “I _told_  you I didn’t have time, and you barged in anyway.”

“You can’t take a personal fucking day just because you’re pissed at me, Gabe,” Jack said. 

“I feel like everyone should get to take _two_  personal days after having to deal with _you_.” Gabe took a deep breath then. He was /pissed, absolutely pissed. He couldn’t lower his voice even if he _tried_ , couldn’t breathe smoothly. 

Jack shook his head. He looked down at the floor. “I can’t believe that at one point I could deal with your bullshit.”

Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “ _Leave_ ” 

Jack looked up at Gabe, then nodded. “Of course, Gabi.” He strode out of his office at that, the door sliding shut behind him. 

He didn’t even pick up the damn chair he tipped over.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some important notes down at the end of this chapter. Please take note of them! :)

“You think I can’t do it?” 

“No. I don’t.” 

Jesse smirked. His fingers twitched at his sides, his whole being eager for a challenge, for an opportunity to show these people up. To _prove_  that he’s worthy of being here.

Of course, he hadn’t exactly expected _this_  to be the challenge that would prove that. 

He sat on one of the couches in the Blackwatch common room. The television was still playing shitty reruns of some old show, but the volume was muted and everyone was staring at him.

Almost every single Blackwatch agent had gathered to watch him complete his challenge, this dare. It had been Andersson’s idea, who still didn’t quite like Jesse and wanted to see him fail. Jesse was excited to see her face when she realized what a big mistake it was.

Once he was dared, rumors spread quickly. Langston, an agent who Jesse learned was a terrible gossip, was immediately out of his seat and running down the hall to gather everyone else. The others in the room, Marsh and Gomez, were laughing at him, goading him. Andersson still sat, smug, at the other end of the table. She was just absolutely sure that she was about to ruin Jesse’s whole life. 

“That’s pretty cute, y’know. How you think you know what I can handle?”

“What’s cute is that _you_  think you know what you’re doing,” she laughed in reply. Jesse could almost imagine her twirling a dagger on her fingers. There was something dangerous about her,and yet Jesse was intrigued by her. 

In front of Jesse, sat the _ugliest_  pepper he’d ever seen in his life. It was all shriveled and wrinkled, reminding him of an old person, with a tiny appendage on the end that looked like it was flipping him off. That alone was a challenge if he’d ever seen one.

Soon the crowd was gathered, all of them excited to see Jesse “die.” 

The Carolina Reaper was one of the hottest peppers known to man that was “safe” enough for human consumption for ten years back in the day.  It finally got beat out by some other insane crossbreeds, all of which were not even considered edible. _This_  though, this one was considered edible, just barely. 

Andersson had brought it back from a mission she returned from the day previous. She was talking about how hot it was, and Jesse had laughed, saying that it was practically nothing. That was how he found himself, getting ready to consume something that may or may not end him. 

“Should we call Doctor Ziegler here ahead of time,” someone asked. Jesse couldn’t place their voice with a face, though he did respond.

“I don’t need her. Y’think a little pepper is gonna put me out?”

“I think that Americans are damn crazy,” someone else laughed, which got a couple of other chuckles out of the group. 

Jesse huffed. “Y’all are gonna be eating your words.”

Jesse picked up the pepper, bringing it closer to his face. The scent of it alone was enough to make his eyes water, so he kept it at a distance.

“Just a bite?”

“Just a bite,” Andersson confirmed. “Keep it down, and perhaps I will consider that you are not as much of a pretty boy as I thought you were.” 

Jesse bared his teeth more than he grinned. “Whatever you say, darlin’.” 

Jesse brought the pepper to his lips, and took a bite.

~~~

The next time Jesse opened his eyes, his mouth was still aching and he was staring up at the ceiling of his quarters. He blinked, once, twice, as the blurriness faded from his vision and he came to his senses.

He was in his own bed, stripped down to his boxers. He slowly sat up, a groan rumbling from his throat. His chest was aching, and his throat and mouth felt as if it were ripped to shreds. His skin was slick with sweat, new and old. 

“Hey, idiot. Good morning.”

Jesse looked up, and almost jumped when he saw Andersson sitting in a chair on the other side of his room. She looked bored, upon his initial examination, as if she was being forced to sit there. When he looked a little closer, he could see the tension in her body, as if something was making her nervous. 

“Wha-”

“So, you ate the pepper, and you held it down for a good three minutes before you finally threw up and passed out,” she chuckled. She ran her fingers through her dark, cropped hair, looking a bit bashful. “Commander was _pissed_ ; so was Doctor Ziegler. She looked you over, you were fine. She made sure you weren’t going to like.. Die… or anything, and left you some weird tea for your throat and a _very_  stern note.” 

Andersson pulled a slightly crumbled piece of paper out of her pocket, then stood up and walked over to Jesse’s bedside. She handed it over. 

“And Commander?” Jesse’s voice was croaky, as if he’d just lost his voice. It hurt to speak.

“He was pretty mad, at the both of us actually? He said a lot of stuff,” she shrugged, shoving her hands into her hoodie pocket. “About how you were an idiot, yaddah yaddah. Lot’s of shit in Spanish. Then he got after me, since… I should’ve known better than to have goaded you into that. And… I guess he’s right.”

She shifted from foot to foot nervously. “But uh- either way...” she mumbled out. Jesse almost found it amusing, how she was floundering “I guess… you got some major guts to actually eat one of those things. I didn’t think it was _that_  hot... but… yeah.”

Jesse grinned. “Aw, do ya feel bad,” he teased.

“Shut up, before I shove another one down your throat,” she threatened, though Jesse was fairly sure she wouldn’t follow through with it.  “Let’s just say, that we’re even. For like- you shootin’ me, and stuff.” 

“Yeah, okay. Sounds good, darlin’.”

She smiled back. “Alright. There’s a glass of milk in the fridge for you, when you want it.” 

“Thanks.”

She nodded, then turned on her heel and left, perhaps a bit awkwardly. Jesse didn’t mind. He hummed, realizing that he might’ve just made a friend.

~~~

“Aim slightly higher,” Amari amended. She shifted forward towards Jesse again, grabbing his elbow and moving it. “Don't get too locked up. You need to feel comfortable with your gun.” 

“I do feel comfortable with a gun,” Jesse hummed. He narrowed his eyes, shifting his arm over towards a rapidly moving target and fired. He clipped it's shoulder, he cursed. 

“You are acting as if you don't trust it,” Amari hummed. “There are very few things you can trust on the battlefield, your weapon should be one of them.” 

“I know. It ain't that I don’ trust it. It jus’ doesn't feel right.” 

“Well,” Amari sighed, trailing off. She watched Jesse aim and fire at the same target, this time landing a shot on its head and capsizing it. “We must get you your own when you start going on missions. This thing is a phony.” She took the gun from Jesse’s hands, which he thought was probably a bit dangerous, but didn’t seem to stop her. “The bullets aren't made of real metal, just a mixture of cheap metals and plastic that we use for practice. The gun itself is painted silver, most likely. It's not deadly.” 

“Yeah, I figured. The weight is similar to my old one, but not near how a gun should feel in your hand,” Jesse said. He examined the gun Amari was holding. It was far too shiny and new looking, as if he hadn't been using it on a daily basis. 

“I will notify Reyes that you will need your own to start practicing with. He will need to get other things settled with you anyway. Perhaps we can go shopping,” she said.

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “Shoppin’?”

When Jesse thought of shopping, foggy memories of being dragged through the grocery store with his mom resurfaced. Also another, slightly embarrassing one, where he prowled around a department store in heels and a dress. 

“Well, not necessarily _shopping_. We will need a uniform for you eventually. We have a team of designers that make Overwatch’s combat gear. They use extremely strong, yet flexible fabrics that can be made for the wearer’s needs,” Amari explained. Jesse listened to her intently, ignoring the whirring of the practice range as dummies continued to follow their programmed course. “They make more, shall we say… _covert_  outfits for Blackwatch. It would not be fitting for you to wear the bright blue that the rest of Overwatch does.” 

“I mean, why exactly is that ma’am,” Jesse asked. “I'm fairly sure it ain't just cuz we're called ‘Blackwatch.’”

Amari sighed and bit her lip. She seemed hesitant to tell him something. 

“Well, Blackwatch deals with more dangerous and complex missions… things that the average Overwatch agent would not want to deal with. Not that they are  not capable agents, but… they are the ones televised. They smile and wear pretty colors that are recognizable.  Blackwatch does the hard jobs. They don't exactly go into missions with a smile,” Amari explained. 

She pursed her lips. “You must understand that Blackwatch is not supposed to be the star of the show. They do the tougher jobs that require different experience and different skills. That is why you are trained separately from other agents.” 

“So you’re sayin’ that we ain't puttin’ on a show over here?” 

“Well, Overwatch doesn't necessarily do that either. They do _work_  but they do the… more tasteful work, I suppose. The less arguable jobs, the ones that need less discretion, those are for Overwatch to deal with.” 

Jesse bit his lip and adjusted his hat. “That's a  nice way to say that Blackwatch does the dirty work that the public wouldn't be so keen on and that Overwatch doesn’t feel like dealing with.” 

She shrugged. “It would not be fitting for me, a _Captain_  of Overwatch, to be saying anything of the sort.” Jesse got the hint, he wasn't supposed to tell anyone she said anything. 

Amari didn’t look too perturbed by telling Jesse, as if these issues weren’t necessarily secret. Throughout his time here, Jesse had already gathered that Blackwatch felt a sort of _hostility_  towards Overwatch. They regarded themselves as separate, which Jesse supposed /did make sense. Unofficial segregation of living quarters was a nice way of saying saying “you don’t belong.” It seemed ridiculous, but perhaps necessary. Jesse remembered something Commander had said about how Blackwatch was a semi-secret branch of Overwatch, so it wouldn’t be the best idea to go around making friends with the others. 

There was a sort of resentment, among agents though. On frequent occasions, they were outright subordinate towards Strike-Commander Morrison. They usually didn’t say anything around Commander Reyes, but it seemed that if it was overheard he didn’t make _that_  much of an effort to stop it. 

“Commander was mighty pissed the other day ‘bout a mission that Blackwatch was put on, so was everyone else… I didn't quite know what they were talkin’ ‘bout, but they seemed pretty upset.” Jesse stated this, not quite asking for an explanation, but heavily implying that he would like one. 

“That was not a mission that _anybody_  should've been going on,” Amari said sternly. Her eyes seemed regretful, though from what Jesse knew, she wasn’t at fault.. “Reyes needs to understand that mistakes were made and recognized and apologized for. Mistakes happen.” 

“A mistake that cost a life though, Captain,” Jesse murmured. “I heard that Peterson kicked the bucket this mornin’. It was very quiet over breakfast.” 

Amari went silent after that. She stared at the gun in her hand. 

At this point, the range had paused itself. It must've detected that no shooting was going on and decided to power down. There was no longer a constant mechanical hum from somewhere near the back wall, and all of the targets had disappeared. 

The training room was completely silent, save for their own breathing.

“Jesse, do you like tea?” 

Jesse wasn’t expecting _that_ as her reply, but he understood that, that specific conversation was _over_. He thought it was understandable.

“Uh, haven't really had much of it, so I wouldn't know,” Jesse shrugged. “Used to steal sips of iced tea from my ma though.”

“I will be on mission until Thursday, but would you be open to a conversation over tea on Friday?” 

It took Jesse a few moments to realize that one of his superiors was offering to spend time with him outside of work. It made him feel a bit special, which even he recognized as /ridiculous. It was probably a common thing, but still.

“Uh, sure ma’am. Sounds great.” 

Amari smiled. “Lovely. I will email you the details. For now, let us take a break from shooting. Drop and give me twenty.” 

Jesse’s grin morphed into a frown. “Aw, really?” 

“Thirty, then?”

“Sorry, ma’am. I'm goin’ , I'm goin’.” Jesse moved to kneel on the floor, and set his hat to the side.

 

~~~

 

It took Jesse quite a while to adjust to Blackwatch, mentally and physically. Physically, Doctor Ziegler had been impressed by how much healthier he looked after just three weeks of proper dieting and light exercise. 

“You look much healthier, Jesse.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jesse smiled at her, tipping his hat. She chuckled at him, before turning around towards her computer on the counter top.

It was late, nearing ten. Jesse felt almost like a kid again, sat in a small doctor’s office where he’s assuming Doctor Ziegler did examinations, paper crinkling underneath his weight as he shifted nervously. The room itself was bland. The walls were a very light tan color, and there were three posters with different medical information printed on them. Jesse found that they were boring, very fine print discussing the importance of proper exercise and diet, or the diagram of a body. The room had an examination table for patients to sit on, with a squishy top and crinkly paper to avoid spreading germs. Jesse tried not to move too much, finding the sound to be too loud in the mostly quiet room. 

On the wall behind him, just to the left of his shoulder, was a box with a bunch of different doctor’s tools. There were things to check his ears and eyes and mouth, which Doctor Ziegler had already finished with. 

The wall right in front of Jesse was filled with a bulky counter space and  cabinets above that. Inside were mundane things like gloves and medical tools that Jesse didn’t care about. That was where Doctor Ziegler was standing, her eyes glued to a screen as she read through tiny prints and files and typed things in.

“Has Commander Reyes been working you too hard, Jesse,” she asked. Her fingers clicked away on the keyboard. 

“Uh, nah. He wants me to start doing weight trainin’ and practice with hand-to-hand stuff, but he doesn’t wanna break me so he’s waitin’ on your word,” Jesse explained. “I personally think, I’d be able to handle it.”

“What kind of cardio does he have you do? Surely not the _full_  Blackwatch workouts.”

“Oh, nah, nah,” Jesse shook his head. He chuckled, slightly flustered. “Can’t even do half the push-ups those _machines_  do.” 

Doctor Ziegler laughed. “Yes, I wouldn’t expect you to be able to. You were malnourished. And I’m assuming that Deadlock didn’t have you lifting heavy things.”

“Nah, jus’ shootin’ and runnin’,” Jesse hummed. “Only thing I was good for. An’ really, between you ‘n me, I never really fought all that much. More dodgin’ and shootin’ than anythin’.”

Doctor Ziegler finished typing something up before turning to him, her lips pursed. “You lied when you were speaking to us.”

“Uh, jus’ a bit. Nothin’ ‘bout anythin’ else, though. Pinkie promise,” he said, smiling as if that would fix the fact that he lied. “Not like I can’t learn.”

“Perhaps you should speak to Reyes about that. I just cleared you for weight training and hand-to-hand practice,” she sighed. “Reyes, does not tend to take it easy on new recruits, especially ones who told him they have experience.”

Jesse shrugged. “Can’t be that bad. I can duck.”

“You can’t just run from these things, Jesse. They will catch up to you.”

“I’m fairly sure I’m faster than all those goons, Doc-”

“That, was not what I was referring to,” she sighed. She leaned back against the counter behind her, reaching up to rub at her temples. “I suggest you tell Commander Reyes that you are not as experienced as he thinks he you are, so that I don’t see you in my infirmary tomorrow evening.”

“Aw, c’mon… ain’t gonna be that bad. It’s play fightin’, ain’t it?”

“They won’t _kill_  you, but ‘play fighting’ is a stretch,” Ziegler explained. “You’ve watched them, have you not?”

Jesse _had_. Even though he wasn’t allowed to fight with them or lift weights, Reyes wouldn’t let him leave until the two hours was up. That meant that he would run around the small track in the training room while everyone else moved onto the rest of their workouts. While he did so, he watched them all fight. Most of Blackwatch was _strong_  and knew how to handle themselves in those situations. All of them were stubborn and competitive, leaving bruises and breaking skin. Face shots tended to be off limits, apparently Doctor Ziegler was fed up with setting broken noses, but that did not mean they didn’t happen on the occasion. The fights lasted a while too, as both agents tended to _not_  want to lose and wouldn’t even think about tapping out until their faces were turning blue. 

“Well, I mean… alright, alright. I see your point,” Jesse mumbled. He bit his lip. He wouldn’t last very long taking blows like that. “He’d be pissed though, if I told him.” 

“He’d be more pissed when you are in the medbay because he didn’t know you were not capable of fighting,” Ziegler said. “It is not as if he would kick you out for it, Jesse. I’m sure you know by know, he _wants_  to train you. If anything, this would just mean he would _teach_  you a few things before he threw you out there.” 

Jesse acknowledged her point. It made sense, he _knew_  Reyes wouldn’t do anything irrational. Perhaps some _actual_  combat training might benefit him before sparring with the others.  

  
~~~

 

“Alright, McCree. Doctor Ziegler cleared you for hand-to-hand practice. You’re gonna be put in with Andersson after she’s done with this match.”

Jesse nodded dumbly, keeping that charming smile on his lips as he followed Commander Reyes towards the training mats. There were four of them lined up, each one contained by pieces of some sort of strong elastic tubing. It reminded Jesse of boxing rings he’d seen on televisions before. 

The one on the very left currently contained a _very_  aggravated Andersson and another agent who Jesse recognized as Marnie. Nobody called her by her last name, for whatever reason, even Reyes called her Marnie. She stood a good head taller than Andersson, and was _buff_. Jesse remembered that she had some of the longest hair he’d seen, and wondered how she got it all packed into such a small little bun at the base of her neck.

The two of them looked like /animals in the ring, circling each other with a snarl that would almost be feral if not for the smug smile hiding in both of their eyes. They had already been at it for a couple minutes. Jesse could see bruises blooming on Andersson’s calves, and two fresh ones on Marnie’s forearms. 

“C’mon Marnie, come get me sweetheart,” Andersson had called from her corner, her voice mocking a croone. Her eyes looked alight with adrenaline, her chest heaving. 

Marnie let out some sort of noise, whether it was a short laugh or a growl Jesse wasn’t sure. 

What he _was_  sure of, was that he might actually _die_  stepping into one of these rings. Andersson could /fight, he knew that for sure. That morning over breakfast, she had been telling him about the different fighting styles she’d been trained in as a kid, and then her _additional_  training in the army and then even more training in Blackwatch. 

“Uh, Commander, sir?” Jesse’s voice was quieter than he thought it would be and didn’t catch his commander’s attention. Reyes was watching the two of them circle each other, a smile playing on his lips. He was _proud_. Jesse could tell that Reyes /cared about each and every one of his agents, especially in moments like these during training. That wasn’t a smile of some old Commander who just wanted to get his job done. 

Jesse uttered the same sentence again, this time louder.

This time Reyes looked over, just barely. “Yeah, McCree?”

“Why are you puttin’ me with Andersson? Ain’t she like… _really_  professionally trained?”

“Yeah, she is. _But_ , she also knows when to quit and that you aren’t as strong as the others. She’ll take it easy to an extent.”

“But uh- sir-”

Jesse was interrupted by a fight erupting in front of him. He missed who had jumped first, but now the two of them were in the middle of the ring. Andersson was dealing some serious blows to Marnie, who had her arms raised to cover her face. Andersson moved to knee her in the stomach, but Marnie dodged back quicker than she expected. Marnie used the opportunity, and before Andersson could return back to a defensive position, Marnie was sweeping a leg underneath her. Andersson fell with a **thump**  and a groan. Marnie was on top of her then, moving to grab her arms and pin her. Andersson pressed up with her knees against Marnie’s exposed stomach, pushing _hard_. Marnie let out a groan and tried shifting further on top of her, but Andersson managed to use her feet to push Marnie back off of her. Marnie stumbled back and to the right, and Andersson was up quicker than what Jesse considered humanly possible. 

Andersson charged for Marnie, moving towards the left and ducking under a powerful right hook swinging in for her face. Now behind her, Andersson wasted no time in kicking the back of Marnie’s knees. Her leg buckled, naturally, and Andersson moved quickly to press her to the ground. He settled all of her weight on top of her, strategically maneuvering to keep Marnie’s squirming to a minimum.

“You can handle that, can’t you,” Reyes asked him, glancing over with a grin.

“Uh, sir-”

Marnie let out a loud groan and Jesse looked back towards the ring. Andersson had a chunk of Marnie’s hair in her hand and from the look of the blood streaming down Marnie’s nose, had slammed her face into the mat.

Reyes, at that, intervened. “Hey! Andersson! Fucking- if you broke her nose Ziegler’s going to be _pissed_!”

Andersson looked up at Reyes, distracted by his interjection. “That rule isn’t any fun, Commander.”

Marnie seemed to sense her distraction. Perhaps she felt the grip on her hair loosen, the way Andersson’s knees shifted. Either way, Marnie was by _far_  stronger than Andersson, and was easily able to push her up and off her with a shout. Andersson let out a squeak of surprise as she fell back on her ass, and before she could move Marnie was lunging on her. 

Marnie pinned her down differently this time, sitting down heavily on her thighs to keep her legs still. She once again pinned Andersson’s hands, though Andersson did try to squirm out of her grip. 

Marnie looked down at her, snarling with blood dripping down her nose. The two of them were messes, sweaty and covered in bruises. Marnie looked down at Andersson with satisfaction, and with that angle two drops of blood dripped from her nose and onto Andersson’s shirt. 

Andersson erupted into a laughing screech. “Eugh! Get your booger blood off of me!”

She squirmed, and Marnie’s snarl turned into a smug smile. 

“Did I win, _sweetheart_ ,” she mocked. 

“Eugh, yes! Just- get the fuck off.”

Marnie chuckled and released her hands, which Andersson proceeded to use to playfully shove Marnie back. 

“Nice fighting, ladies,” Reyes said, a smile on his face. Marnie stepped out of the ring, not as sweaty as Jesse expected her to be.

“Commander, I’m gonna go take this down to the medbay. Feels broken.”

Reyes sighed. “Alright. Tell Doctor Ziegler that I warned the two of you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take one for the team and sit through the lecture,” Marnie shrugged. “Nice match, Andersson. Tomorrow, we’ll go again.”

Reyes corrected her, “Tomorrow, you’re stuck on weights. And you’ll continue to be stuck there until your nose is healed.”

Marnie laughed at his reply. Jesse had a feeling Reyes didn’t particularly feel like stepping between her and the ring.

Andersson came up to the edge of the mats, leaning on the elastic tubes that seemed surprisingly sturdy.

“Personally, I think that was bullshit since I was distracted.”

“Shouldn’t have gotten distracted before she tapped out,” Reyes shrugged. “Did good, either way.”

“Thank you, sir.” Andersson shifted her gaze from their commander to Jesse. “You ready to go, cowboy?”

_No_ , Jesse thought internally. 

“Yeah,” he said, smiling as if he wasn’t about to face death itself. “Ready to get your ass kicked, darlin’?”

Andersson nearly snorted with laughter at that. “Oh _please_ , McCree. Let’s be realistic.”

Jesse took a deep breath before stepping into the ring himself. 

He watched Andersson get a couple drinks of water. She was leaning over the ring, speaking to Commander Reyes. Both of them were speaking quietly, and with the noise in the rest of the training room, Jesse couldn’t hear a single word. He wasn’t stupid though, he figured it was about himself.

He had a few moments where he tried to psych himself up for what was about to happen. He knew how to dodge, knew how to run. Andersson was quick, but he was quicker. He had a feeling that he could dodge most of her blows, but offense wise he was fairly sure he was screwed.

Andersson stepped away from Commander Reyes, then walked back towards her corner of the ring. 

“Alright, cowboy let’s do this. Count us down, Commander.”

Reyes hummed an affirmative. Jesse looked over at him, locking eyes with him. He didn’t look particularly worried at first. He must’ve seen something in Jesse’s face, though, something that suddenly morphed his normal disgruntled appearance to _concern_ and  _confusion_. 

He counted them down anyway, his eyebrows drawn together. 

Jesse looked back towards Andersson, his heart already beating. He’d been in fights before, but with guns or blades at his side that could finish the job far quicker, before he could even take a punch. 

He did his best to mimic a fighting stance, and as Reyes counted down to one he saw the way Andersson’s body was already pushing forwards towards him. 

Jesse’s eyes widened and as Andersson lunged he sidestepped to the right, brushing against the elastic tubing and turning quickly to face her. She had ended up _on_  the tubing, and she quickly turned to face him with a scowl. 

She charged forwards again, trying to tackle Jesse to the ground. He ducked and shifted to the left, and then followed through with his movements until he was pressed against the opposite side of the matts. The elastic tubing was pressed against his lower back.

He heard Reyes behind him, sporting a tone that conveyed concern, irritation, and sternness all at the same time. “Do you _not_  know how to fight?”

Jesse turned to face him, a nervous chuckle bubbling from his lips. “Uh, about that… sir- uh-”

Reyes’ eyes caught on something behind him, and he opened his mouth to speak a warning. Jesse turned his head and was suddenly staring into a fist that, with very little warning, was slamming into his face full-force.  

The elastic tubing around the ring was barely waist-height on Jesse, and that fact coupled with the force of Andersson’s swing sent him tipping back over the elastic and out of the ring. 

As he fell back, his back made contact first, knocking the wind out of him. His head was quick to follow, slamming back on the concrete floor. He barely registered the pain of it before his vision went black. 

~~~

 

Jesse woke up once again, in the medbay. As he opened his eyes, the bright white lights were immediately irritating and painful. He could feel the aching in his head, the aching in his whole body, in fact. The back of his head was throbbing, and as he blinked and adjusted to the horrid light he could see white bandages on his nose. 

He turned his head and immediately felt like he was going to vomit, and so he stilled and let out a groan. Behind him, he heard someone shuffle.

“He’s awake. Go get Ziegler.”

“Yessir.”

The voices sounded muffled, somehow, as if Jesse was underwater and the voices were just above the surface. They were lowered, conscious of Jesse’s predicament, though Jesse’s head was aching far too much to figure out who they belonged to.

He watched a figure stand, and even though they were slightly blurry, he could make out the the short cropped hair and the dark purple sweatshirt that Andersson was wearing that morning. 

She slipped out of view, through the curtains. He could hear her footsteps, though they echoed far more than they should’ve.

“Hey, McCree. You alright?” Jesse heard the same voice again, deep and rumbly. It sounded familiar, comforting almost, though he was still felt like he was underwater and therefore it was heavily distorted. 

It took far too long to place the voice with a face, it must be Commander Reyes. Jesse couldn’t look over to check, just kept his gaze locked forward. 

“Feel like Imma chuck if I move my head.”

“Then maybe don’t do that till Ziegler gets here, alright kid?”

Jesse didn’t want to risk speaking again, his own voice sounded too loud, but he didn’t want to risk nodding either, so he just stayed silent.

Within a few moments, Doctor Ziegler appeared, Andersson on her heel. She looked /upset, her eyes narrowing as she looked Jesse over. His vision was clearing, and he could see how stern and /mad she looked. It was _not_  the most welcoming sight, and he almost wished he could be consumed by the mattress below him.

“So, Jesse, I see that something went wrong today while you were sparring with Miss Andersson.” He could hear it in her voice, the way she clipped the end of her syllables. It sounded too professional.

“Doc, I’m sorry-”

“Oh, I would feel far sorrier for yourself, Jesse,” she said. She didn’t even need to look down at the clipboard as she listed his injuries. “You have a concussion and a broken nose. Not to mention that your back is covered in a _very_ large bruise from where your body connected with the floor.” 

Jesse groaned. “Fuck. Hurts like a bitch.”

“I didn’t want to administer too many painkillers until you woke up. A heavy dosage can lead to… undesirable side effects when mixed with a concussion,” she explained. Her voice was softer now, concern edging into her tone.

“Can I get some now since I’m awake,” he asked. 

“Yes,” she nodded. “I’ll have a nurse come to give you more. Also, you will be monitored here in the medbay for tonight.” 

Besides him, Reyes groaned. Jesse couldn’t see him, but he could imagine the displeasure on his face. No doubt he was pissed, but just being nice enough to wait until Jesse’s skull wasn’t cracking under the pressure of a terrible headache before laying into him. 

“How is this going to affect his training, Doctor Ziegler?”

Jesse watched her posture stiffen. She wasn’t looking at him at this point, more at where Jesse assumed Reyes was. “I’m prohibiting him from physical activity for a week. After that, he can do light training until you _properly_  prepare him for however else you want to _nearly_ kill him.” 

Jesse could hear her tone turn bitter. 

“Angela-” Reyes started.

“It is _D_ _octor Ziegler_ , Commander,” she corrected. Jesse knew she could be scary, but he thought that the rumors were exaggerated. He decided that this was terrifying, a mixture of her disappointment and anger that instilled fear and self loathing into him, and her lecture wasn’t even pointed towards _him_.

“This is _my_  medbay and I am sick and tired of you sending your own agents here with injuries that could’ve been avoided. You almost got away with Marnie’s broken nose because I was observing a surgery, but I stepped out just in time to see her leaving with stitches. How in the world is injuring them preparing them for their missions, Commander?” 

“It just happens, Doctor. These are soldiers we are talking about-”

“Soldiers should not be getting injured in their own barracks. I rarely see a case of any injury from Overwatch agents. If anything, it’s a sprained ankle from falling or something like that. _Never_  broken noses and concussions,” she interrupted him sharply. “Isn’t it sad that I was not surprised that I saw that Jesse was in my medbay, for the second time this month with injuries? Not to mention, he is not even a proper _agent_  yet.

You are lucky that most of the injuries are not that severe and can usually be healed instantaneously. Jesse’s back and nose should be fine within a day or two. His head however, is my main concern, considering he is still _not_ an adult and any sort of brain damage can be even more serious than usual.” 

She then turned to Jesse. 

“And you! You said that you would tell him that you are inexperienced!”

Jesse didn’t like how she was looking at him. 

“I didn’t- I tried but I couldn’t an-”

“Well, now you can see how withholding  information can have consequences, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jesse replied. He bowed his head slightly, not making eye contact.

Doctor Ziegler huffed. She tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. 

“I will send a nurse momentarily to get you adjusted. She might also bring you lunch, which I would like you to try and eat despite your nausea.”

With that she was off, her heels clicking on the tile floor and the privacy curtain swooshing shut behind her. 

Andersson whistled after Doctor Ziegler had departed. “Can you believe how she can chew people out when she’s so young?”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Reyes huffed. Jesse still couldn’t see him, and it was making him nervous. He wanted to see the expression on his face, to see just how mad he was. 

They were all silent for a few moments. The beeping of Jesse’s heart monitored filled this, but almost irritatingly so. Jesse just wanted it to shut up. 

Jesse heard shuffling besides him, heard  chair creak and then saw Commander Reyes’ figure walk so that it was in front of him. The first thing Jesse observed was that he did not look /angry, perhaps frustrated, but not angry.

“You feeling alright kid, overall? Not like you’re gonna die or anything,” he asked. 

“No, sir.” Jesse responded. He shifted his head slightly and ignored the way his stomach churned. 

“Right,” Reyes nodded. “I’ll have a talk with you about everything tomorrow when you get back from the medbay. For now, rest.” 

Jesse mumbled out a response, and his commander left. 

Andersson stood still where she was. She looked like she did after the pepper incident, but perhaps more obviously guilty. 

“Listen, I- that was my bad. I should’ve… I thought I would teach you a lesson for not paying attention. Didn’t think that… _that_  would happen,” she explained. “Not an excuse though. I take that shit too far sometimes… I think Ziegler’s right.” 

She bit her lip and sighed. “But uh- anyway. Rest up, cowboy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He nodded. “Have fun gettin’ chewed out by Reyes,” he teased, trying to be smug.

She laughed a bit at that. “I will, I will.”

Jesse’s nurse arrived a few moments later. He remembered her from his first night here. 

~~~

 

When Jesse returned from the medbay, his nose on straight and his head slightly achy, he found that Commander Reyes had been sent on a mission. He wasn’t sure if the delay of their “talk” was relieving, or more nerve wracking. 

He made himself a bowl of cereal which he took into his room. It was currently the time at which everyone was doing their training, and so he did not run into any other agents as he went about his business.

He settled into his room on his bed, legs folded in front of him. He propped his tablet up against a pillow and turned on a movie. 

Jesse settled back and ate his cereal in relative peace, trying to distract himself from other issues that kept attempting to resurface in his mind. He tried to submerge himself in the movie. It was something about aliens that had invaded, nasty buggers that the people hadn’t caught sight of yet. They were terrorizing some farm house surrounded by these big corn fields. He thought it must be terrifying to be in that situation so isolated from everything else. 

When the movie ended he took a nice warm shower. Dry sweat and ickiness that clung to his skin washed off with bubbles and water. The strange smell of the medbay was overwhelmed by his soap. He made sure the water was plenty hot, enough to make the room feel like a sauna and make the mirror all foggy. 

He toweled off and stepped back into his room. The cold air felt nice on his slightly pink skin. He redressed in comfortable clothing and slapped his hat onto his head. He couldn’t believe that he had nearly forgotten about it, and chastised himself for nearly doing so.

He sat back down onto his bed and sighed. He really wished they hadn’t taken away his smokes. 

Jesse closed his eyes, preparing to submerge himself in a nap when his tablet chimed. He groaned and opened one eye, glancing at the screen. The name “Ana Amari” sweeped any drowsiness from his mind.

He sat up far too quickly, causing his head to feel a bit dizzy. He steadied himself, waiting to make sure he was not going to vomit before proceeding to grab his tablet and open the message.

It was an email, telling him that she had arrived back from the mission and that if they were still on for tea, to meet her in her quarters in an hour. She gave vague directions to where her room was, and said that her name was on a plaque next to the door. 

An hour later he found himself knocking on Captain Amari’s door. He’d actually brushed his hair and put on proper clothing, as opposed to sloppy sweats and an overlarge t-shirt that he’d been moping around in.  

The door slid open seemingly on its own, though Jesse knew that it likely did not open on its own accord. 

As he stepped inside, the aroma of _home_  and _comfort_  bombarded his brain in the most mellow way it could. Her quarters smelled of tea and baking, so warm and welcoming that his feet practically stepped with their own accord. 

Her quarters were lovely and completely customized. They were larger than his own, which he expected. There was a door to the right of him which was shut, and to the left of him the room opened up into a kitchen and past that a small sitting area. The walls were all painted and were covered in photos and knickknacks. He recognized Commander Reyes and Strike-Commander Morrison in the photos, as well as Captain Amari herself. There were others in them as well, though, dressed in uniforms similar to her own, in battle garb, or in casual wear. There was also a younger girl who recurred throughout all of them, whose resemblance to Captain Amari was uncanny. 

Captain Amari was standing in the kitchen, fiddling with teacups and checking in the oven. She turned and smiled at Jesse. 

“Welcome, to my abode,” she greeted, with a sort of over-the-top flair that it was somehow comedic.

He chuckled. “It’s mighty nice in here, ma’am. Thanks for havin’ me.”

“Of course, of course,” she grinned. “I figured that it only made sense for us to get to know each other, since we will be training together more and more. How are you to trust your trainer if you do not know them on some level?”

Jesse hummed. “That’s a very good point.” He stepped forward into her quarters, moving so that his shoes were just touching the tile of the kitchen. 

She turned around and put on a oven mitt, before opening her oven and pulling out a tray of what looked to be cookies. Jesse’s mouth watered. 

“I hope you like cookies,” Amari said.

Jesse chuckled at that. “ _Do_  I.”

Amari hummed. “I figured. You seem to like your sweets.”

“I mean, who doesn’t,” Jesse laughed. 

“That is a very good point,” she said in agreement. She started carefully shuffling the still warm cookies onto a platter, disregarding the fact that they should probably cool first. A risky technique, but that just meant to cookies would be in his mouth faster and so Jesse would not complain. 

She turned with the large plate of cookies in her hands, holding it out for Jesse to take. It was heavier than he expected, a cerulean blue with orange and red twists and swirls painted on in a pretty pattern. 

“Don’t drop that. It’s hand-painted,” she warned, as she grabbed two cups of tea from the counter. She turned and walked towards the small sitting area. Jesse followed her towards the small table pressed against the window. 

He sat down once she was seated, and carefully set the plate in the middle of the table. It clinked as it was set down. He grabbed a cookie the second it was set down, and brought it to his mouth just as quickly. 

“I’ve been starved by a bunch o’ nurses in the medbay, this cookie feels like my first real food in _ages_ ,” Jesse explained, a partially chewed piece of heaven still in his mouth. “Damn, that’s delicious.” 

Captain Amari chuckled. “It is amazing how you say that, when you informed us that a month ago you were living off of cold canned food.” 

“Listen, Overwatch has really enlightened me in how damn good food is. I’ve started practicin’ my cookin’, right? Been havin’ Blackwatch guys taste test for me,” Jesse said. He grinned at Amari. “Apparently, Imma mighty good cook.” 

“Is that so,” she hummed. She had lifted a teacup to her lips, taking a sip. “Y’know, I am also considered a good cook. As is your commander.” 

Jesse scoffed at that, reaching for another cookie. “Is that right? Don’t see the man as much of a chef.”

“You’d be surprised. Gabe, well, _Reyes_ , is not what he seems,” Amari said. “Don’t tell him I told you, but soon enough you will see.”

“I think I already have. More perceptive than most folks think I am,” Jesse mumbled. “I think I’m adjusting to this place, y’know. The folks an’ all that. I dunno if they’ve adjusted to /me yet, though.” 

He reached up and grabbed the tip of his hat, tapping it before reaching for another cookie. 

“That hat, where did you acquire it,” Amari questioned. She set down her cup and reached for a cookie herself. She looked genuinely curious.

Jesse bit his lip. He reached up to touch it again. The touch was subconsciously done at this point, a habit he had. His hat was consistent and familiar, something he’d had since the hat was too big for his head. 

“Uh, when I was little, I think. It didn’t mean /all that much to me when I got it. I was at some concert with my parents, and the man singin’ forgot his name, he threw it into the crowd and my dad caught it. It was my dad’s technically, but sometimes I’d walk around the house with that and my ma’s boots on,” Jesse chuckled at the faint memory, one of the only he remembered. “I was really little, though. When my parents died, and I left, I took this with me.” 

“So, it is of sentimental value?”

Jesse nodded. “That it is. I’ve had it for so long at this point, it feels weird when she ain’t with me.” 

Amari nodded. “Understandably. A comfort item?”

“I s’posse,” Jesse said. He shifted a bit in the incredibly comfy chair. His eyes shifted to the wall right behind Captain Amari. There were three picture frames filled with photos of a young girl.

“If ya don’t mind me askin’, ma’am, who’s that little girl in those pictures?”

“That would be my daughter,” she replied, bringing the teacup to her lips. She didn’t have to look back to see what Jesse was referring to. 

“Oh. How old is she?” 

“You seem surprised,” she prompted him, an eyebrow raised. 

“Well, it’s jus’- are you married or- oh, wait,” Jesse paused, his eyes widening. “I mean, hold on now, that ain’t what I mean.” He stumbled over his words, flushing under Amari’s amused gaze. 

She finally took mercy on him, and spoke in order to cease his stammering. 

“Her name is Fareeha. She’s turning thirteen soon. And no, I am not married. I raised her single handedly when she was young, and when she started school I was asked to join Overwatch. She had a sitter then, but would frequently come to work with me. Now, though, she’s going to a private school in Egypt,” Amari said. She set down her teacup then, and reached for a cookie. 

“Well, that must suck not bein’ able to see her an’ all,” Jesse mumbled. He was on his third cookie now? Fourth? He wasn’t sure, but didn’t necessarily care. They were gooey and soft and delicious. 

“It is. I miss her dearly. She may come visit for a week or so this summer, though I still think she is too young to stay for too long,” Amari explained. “I am _busy_ , and I do not want her to be bored while here. Next summer, I think she will be able to stay longer.” 

“That’s great. I’d love to meet her.”

“She’d love to meet you. She is absolutely _fascinated_ by different cultures and people. She has not had much exposure to _cowboys_.”

Jesse smirked. “You pokin’ fun at me, ma’am.”

“Oh, never,” she chuckled, sarcasm heavy in her tone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple things to note:
> 
> In this fic, I made Mercy slightly older than canonical. I wanted to write her more and since she would be too young to be a doctor canonically, I made her older. 
> 
> I would also like to bring up the fact that my updates are not quite consistent. I seem to fall under the stress of: this needs to be about 8000 words AT LEAST and that's a lot to write in a week. SO, I would like to ask you all this: Would you rather have one shorter chapter posted a week, approximately half the size of the normal ones... OR would you rather have one larger chapter posted every two weeks? Let me know!
> 
> Also, I have a new tumblr. It's smolcactusgay. Please come follow me there and say hello!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize beforehand for taking so long to update. I was aiming for two weeks, but this chapter really kicked my ass. I experienced a massive ass kicking AKA terrible writers block. Everything I had down didn't sound right and didn't flow, and even as I'm posting this, I feel like I could've produced much better content than what I'm actually putting out. I figured it was done enough, though, and it DOES further the plot so that's all that matters rigHT HAHA. Anyway yeah. Sorry this chapter isn't my best work. Next one will be far better.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting from me, Reyes.” 

Gabe sat on his office chair, slouched forward with his elbows resting on his desk. He stared at Jack Morrison across from him, who was attempting to lecture him about something that he didn’t have much control over. Not that Gabe expected anything less, considering that lately _everything_  seemed to be his fault. 

“Missions that aren’t planned by an _insane_  person,” Gabe mumbled. In his right hand he held a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. He glanced into his cup and made a slightly disgusted face at the layer of film that had formed on the surface. He gingerly set it down and looked back at Jack. 

“You signed off on it.”

“I can’t just _not_  sign off on it, Morrison.”

“You have the option to pass back the mission if you don’t think your agents can handle it,” Jack shrugged. The blue of his uniform was giving Gabe a headache. His hair was styled _perfectly_  with gel, and Gabe barely held back the urge to roll his eyes. 

“My agents _can_  handle it,” Gabe snarled. “Just because _your_  agents are incompetent and don’t want to do anything ‘morally wrong,’ doesn’t mean you can dump that bullshit on me.”

“You are referring to the assassination mission you just returned from,” Jack hummed, more to himself it seemed. “Listen, Reyes. I can’t have my people in the blue uniform seen doing anything like that. It’s bad for the press-” 

“So, you have us go into an event _full_  of innocent bystanders and scar them for life because they think they just witnessed a terrorist attack? Meanwhile it was just lil ol’ Overwatch coming to save the day.” His tone was mocking, and he made a grand gesture to enunciate the ridiculousness of the whole situation. “We were _not_ informed that there would be that many bystanders. People could’ve gotten _hurt_ , Morrison.”

“But they didn’t, did they? Just one person with some bruised ribs, right? Because your guys can handle that sort of thing.” Jack smiled, a bit smugly. He crossed his arms over his chest. “There is a reason that Blackwatch is separate from Overwatch-”

“Only when you want it to be,” Gabe interrupted him, his voice filled with malice. “If we did a good job and nobody got hurt that shouldn’t have been and if the public generally find the mission acceptable, then it’s _fine_  to take credit for it, right?”

Jack pursed his lips. “The public needs to be on _our_  side, otherwise we cannot do anything.” 

“The _public_  doesn't know the whole story.”

“They don’t need to know the whole story. Listen, Reyes, I thought you’d gotten past this already.”

“No. I haven’t. It’s been brought up again because of all the bullshit planning you’re sending me.”

“Let’s compromise then,” Jack sighed. He reached up to rub at his face, a sign of _weakness_  that Gabe was almost shocked to see. Jack was _tired_. When looked closer, Gabe could see it in his posture, the way his eyelids sagged just barely. Nobody else would notice it, but Gabe did. 

“What’s your compromise?”

“I’ll give you missions, _you_  can do all the planning yourself and figure it out with your team and do your mission briefings yourself. I’ll give you the reigns on it, as long as you check with me first about your plans. I trust your judgment, though, most of the time.” 

Gabe smiled. “Perfect. I can finally get you out of my hair.”

“You know you don’t have to-”

Jack was interrupted by three docks at the door. He glanced back at the door, then turned to Gabe. 

“Were you expecting someone, Reyes?”

“Yeah. Didn’t think this would take that long,” he snapped. Gabe pressed a button on his desk, and the door slid open to reveal Jesse McCree in the doorway.

McCree’s eyes widened almost comically when he saw Jack sitting there. He was dressed in his over-sized clothes and his hat (not that Gabe was expecting anything else).

“Uh- Am I interruptin’ somethin’, sirs?”

Gabe looked over at Jack, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

“No. I was just leaving,” Jack said, standing from his chair and turning to leave. He nodded to McCree then strode past him, standing as tall as he could as he left. Gabe compared his departure to a retreat, and it left a small pleased smile on his face.

McCree stayed where he was, stock still and unsure of what he should do. 

Gabe sighed. “Come sit down, McCree. We have matters to discuss.”

McCree nodded and walked forward cautiously, sitting down down in the seat that Jack had just vacated. He shifted the seat closer to the edge of the desk and braced his hands on the arms of the chair. He looked around the office curiously, though Gabe didn’t know what exactly he was looking for. The walls were bare save for a few medals that Gabe had earned throughout the years.

Gabe sighed and glanced down once again at his cup. He shifted the cup slightly and found that the coffee was thicker than he anticipated. He set the cup to the side and then looked at McCree.

“So, let’s get right down to the root of the whole problem here. You _lied_. You lied to three superior officers.” As Gabe spoke, he watched as McCree averted his eyes. “You lied during an interview that was imperative in our decision to allow you to stay here.”

McCree bit his lip and fixated his gaze on his lap. 

“It’s not even necessarily _what_  you lied about that’s the issue, kid. It’s the fact that you lied _at all_. Get it?” 

McCree nodded and spoke into his lap. “Yes, sir.”

“Hey, McCree. Look at me when I’m talking to you,” Gabe said, perhaps a bit too harshly. “Don’t fucking act like a kid now when you _insist_  you aren’t the rest of the time.” 

McCree looked up a bit wearily, which was unusual. Gabe was used to McCree being an obnoxious punk, not sitting there like a submissive child getting scolded. 

“Why’d you lie to me?”

“Had to,” McCree croaked out. He reached up and scratched at the back of his neck. 

“You didn’t _have_  to do anything. You chose to.”

“What use is some scrawny punk that has no training and can’t even _fight_ ,” McCree elaborated on his first statement, punctuating the sentence as if it was some sort of absolute truth.

“To be completely honest, I had incredibly low expectations bringing you in. Considering that you were dehydrated and had been living like an animal for the past seven years of your life, we didn’t think you could do much. All we needed to know was that you have potential, and you do,” Gabe explained. “That shit that we were asking about? It was to know what the hell you could do and how to train you. Fucking-- the _second_  I saw your shooting range scores I wasn’t gonna let you slip through my fingers.”

“Blondie looked like he was just waitin’ for a reason to send me off and I thought if I seemed badass he’d get off my case,” McCree mumbled with a shrug. He was still avoiding Gabe’s gaze, his cheeks flushed. 

“ _Strike-Commander Morrison_ ,” Gabe corrected, with less sternness than he meant to. “... has _barely_ any say in what I do with Blackwatch.” Which was a blatant lie, considering the conversation he’d just had with the man, but he wouldn't mention that to McCree. 

“I heard y’all arguin’,” McCree scoffed. He finally looked up at Gabe with a raised eyebrow. “Or ‘debatin’ or whatever.” He tapped his fingers on the the chair’s arms. “Yer gettin’ fucked over here, aintcha?” 

Gabe assumed McCree was referring to Overwatch as “here.” Or perhaps he was referring to Gabe’s whole life, which in that case, he wasn’t exactly wrong. It wasn't exactly secret how his life got fucked over anyway, but it definitely was not anyone's business.

Gabe sucked in a breath and bit at the inside of his mouth. “This isn’t what we’re discussing. Don’t change the subject.”

“I get what yer sayin’ already,” McCree said confidently. “I shouldn’t lie to you cuz you are my commanding officer and I should trust you cuz you are my boss.”

“There’s more to it,” Gabe said. He had gotten massively off track, he realized. His lecturing tone had completely slipped into a regular, perhaps slightly concerned, tone; he’d even let his composure slip. Now looking at McCree, he saw how much more responsive he was. He was making direct eye contact now, which made Gabe pause. Maybe yelling at him was a bad way to go about this. He filed that observation away for later.

“I had a whole lecture planned for you,” Gabe mumbled. “Your lie could have gotten not only _you_  in a bad situation, but also someone else. You got pretty severely injured, considering it was _training_ , and not an actual fight.” 

“Blackwatch don’t seem to know the difference ‘tween trainin’ and _real_  fightin’, though,” McCree pointed out. He leaned back in the chair. “Andersson and Marnie were beasts.”

“They are competitive, like all of Blackwatch is. We’re all, working through things.”

“By takin’ it out on one ‘nother?” McCree raised an eyebrow. “Y’know, Doc had a point. My memories from what happened in the medbay are still a lil’ fuzzy, but I got the jist of what she was sayin’. Do you?”

“I get what she’s saying, but she really doesn’t underst-- wait! Hey! Why are you changing the subject again? You little shit,” Gabe said, almost laughing. “ _You_  shouldn’t be lecturing me on how to do my job. I already get enough of that from-”

“Everyone else,” McCree filled in. He had a smug grin on his face. “I think I’m figurin’ out how things are workin’ here.” 

Gabe sighed. McCree was _clever_  there was no denying that. He was young, sure, and had very little experience, but his observational skills rivaled any other kid he’d met around his age. Not to mention how he pieced all of it together. 

He stared at the McCree in silence. He had crossed his arms over his chest, smug look lingering even as the seconds ticked on. His clothes really _were_  too large, though Gabe hesitated in getting him new ones yet. He would surely grow into them. The cowboy hat gave enough of an impression, though its initial connotation had shifted to something else. Gabe choked out a laugh, remembering how McCree had claimed that it had that sort of “charm.” At this point, Gabe almost couldn’t deny it.

“Y’know what, McCree. I think you are, too,” Gabe laughed, shaking his head. He looked down at his desk. His hands were clenched on the edge of it. There were a few smudges on the wood that would need to be polished, a few crumbs. He looked back up at McCree. “You remember what I said about how your lie got you injured and could’ve done far worse?”

“Yessir,” McCree nodded. 

“Alright, good,” Gabe said. He took a deep breath. He supposed that meant that the official “lecture” was over “I want to train you separately from the others. You still have to go to training every morning, but when we switch over to the weights I want you to _watch_. Don’t waste your energy on anything else, just _watch_. I’ll send you a message on your comm about a time I want you to meet me in the training room. Deal?”

Gabe didn’t miss the way his recruit’s eyes had lit up very breifly. McCree otherwise looked unperturbed by what he had said. 

“Sure,” he drawled lazily. “Although, you only gave me a tablet. No comms or nothin’ like that.”

“So, are you _a_ _ctually_ working on your English because your grammar is fucking terrible,” Gabe scoffed, smiling when McCree scowled at him. Before he could speak again, (Gabe assumed it would be some dumbass quip that he could risk missing), Gabe continued. “I’ll make sure I get one to you. It’ll be limited as of now, but we _should_  get you into the system without alerting the systems… somehow. I’ll speak to Morrison about that. For now, I’ll message you on that old hunk of junk we gave you.” 

McCree barked out a laugh. “Old hunk of junk? I hadn’t had anythin’ nearly as advanced as that ever in my _life_. D’ya know how many movies that thing’s got on it? All of ‘em, boss. All of ‘em!”

Gabe chuckled. “Alright, sorry for offending you,” he snarked sarcastically. “Listen, alright, when Ziegler clears you we can start on that. Sound good?”

“Yessir,” McCree nodded. “I uh- wanted to ask. Since this’ll set me back a bit, think I’ll still get out on missions right when I’m er- legal I s’posse.”

Gabe sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “As of now, doesn’t look like it, kid. Sorry I got your hopes up. I was too ambitious and eager with you. It’s not your fault, more mine. But, I want you prepared. Don’t wanna lose you before you can even do me any good.”

McCree grinned. “Haven’t done ya good yet, sir? Thought I’ve been quite the stress reliever.”

“The exact opposite, actually,” Gabe scoffed. “Have no fucking idea why you’d ever think you’ve been anything except for a pain in my ass.”

McCree held a hand over his heart. “Aw, Commander. Yer gonna make me blush.”

Gabe shook his head, smiling. “You’re gonna get punched in the face. Again.”

“Is that a threat,” McCree laughed, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“You realize you’re talking to your boss, right?”

“You haven’t done shit to stop me yet.”

 

~~~

 

Gabe made it a habit to join Blackwatch for as many meals as he could. Despite his quarters being elsewhere, he spent most of his time among his agents in the Blackwatch Wing. He sometimes wondered if it would be more convenient to just take up residence in one of the spare rooms, though he knew that was against Overwatch protocol and Jack would never allow it. 

He knew that as the Commander of Blackwatch, spending time with his agents promoted camaraderie, which in turn made his ranks stronger. 

Overwatch had a thing about any personal relationships. They were generally looked down upon, viewing bonding between agents as unprofessional if it was anything more than platonic. 

In Blackwatch, however, Gabe felt that personal connections were empowering. It was important to have each others backs, especially during their missions that tended to be more on the dangerous side. Blackwatch was much more compact as well, and with a lot less agents, everything was a bit more _personal_.

Blackwatch was more open internally than most would assume. It only had twenty-three and a half agents (if you included their new recruit), and so generally, people warmed up quickly. Gabe knew that those outside Blackwatch found them to be _intimidating_ , which at this point was more of an advantage than anything. It meant that nobody would come poking around in their business. 

Gabe figured that most outsiders assumed that Blackwatch agents were dangerous animals, secluded and aggressive. While yes, they could have their times, every meal tended to be a social time for Blackwatch. 

Their dining table was big, if you didn’t consider how many people were using it. The table was chipped and scratched, and one of the legs needed to be supported by two books. Twenty-four mix-matched chairs were set around it, most of them were borrowed from elsewhere and never to be returned. Everyone tended to squish in around it to eat their meals, and very little elbow space tended to make for interesting experiences.

Gabe was the first to the table, usually, especially during breakfast. His agents tended to despise early mornings. Gabe, meanwhile, had been forced into the early bird lifestyle. It was hard for him to sleep most of the time, and after staring at the ceiling for so long, he figured he might as well get up and make something of his time. Insomnia was what lead him to eventually get out of bed. 

He was in later than usual one particular morning, finding himself in bed for longer than he’d normally be. He felt particularly disgruntled that day, whether it be due to his headache or the stress of everything else, he wasn’t sure. He answered his emails for an hour before standing and readying himself for the day, which included dressing in comfortable clothing (for training later) and putting on his sneakers. 

He made his way to the Blackwatch wing, slightly irritated with how many people were already wandering the halls. He strode past them quickly, ignoring the ones that stared at him.

Mostly everyone was awake when he arrived, already chowing down on what looked like bacon and eggs. They barely glanced up at him when he walked in, too preoccupied in their conversation.

He walked to the kitchen immediately, pleased to see a full pot of fresh coffee waiting for him. He poured coffee into a mug and glanced over at the stove top, where two large pans of food were waiting. He made himself a plate as he listened to their conversation.

“Dogs are better. I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation.”

“You brought it up, dumbass.”

“You implied that cats were better and I can’t take that sitting down.” 

There was both a hum of agreement and a groan of irritation around the table. 

“Why are you so aggressive about it? Nobody said cats were better.”

“The _implications_ , Marsh. The _implications_.” 

“I’ll show you where you can shove those implications.” That quip earned a few chuckles. 

Gabe glanced up to watch his agents bicker. There were about seven empty seats around the table. Gabe knew that four of those seats would normally be filled by agents that had gone on a mission last night and wouldn’t be back for a few days. One of the seats belonged to himself, so that meant two agents were missing from the table. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 7:30, meaning that the other two agents probably would not be joining them.

He took a mental rollcall, taking note of those that were seated. He found himself immediately looking for McCree, finding him squished between Andersson and Marnie. Andersson and Marnie were talking to themselves, leaning in further to McCree who had to practically fold in on himself to avoid being crushed by the two of them.

Gabe walked over to them with a full plate, taking a seat across from Andersson. 

“You both look like you’re trying to absorb McCree,” he commented. 

The two of them looked up from their conversation, then glanced at McCree who smiled sheepishly.

“There’s plenty of room for him to spread out, technically,” Marnie said. “It’s not our fault he’s afraid of human contact.”

“Ain’t tryin’ to pick a fight with either of you,” McCree explained.

“You think we’re gonna fight you if our elbows touch,” Andersson scoffed. “We aren’t _that_ insane, cowboy.”

“I ain’t gonna assume anythin’ ‘bout either of you after I’ve seen what you can do,” McCree shook his head.

Andersson chuckled then turned to Gabe, holding up her fist. “He still gets a little nervous when I get close to him. I’m using it to my full advantage.”

“She’s an asshole, essentially,” McCree grunted. “I ain’t as sturdy as Marnie is.”

“He’s fragile, Andersson. You should know better than to tease him,” Marnie said sarcastically. She patted McCree’s hat gently for good measure.

“You were late to breakfast this morning, Commander,” Andersson commented, raising an eyebrow at him. Gabe didn’t miss how she redirected the conversation elsewhere. “Any particular reason for that?”

“None of your business,” Gabe grunted. He bit into a piece of bacon. The only reason he was late was because of pure laziness, which he felt was something he deserved to give in to every once in awhile.

“You sure it’s not cuz you were busy with something else? Or shall I say... _someone_?” She wiggled her well-kept eyebrows at him. 

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Why are you obsessed with this?”

“Need to know who you’re fucking. For blackmail.”

McCree choked on his orange juice. Marnie immediately slapped him on his back, which had McCree launching himself forward into the table and nearly into his own plate.

Gabe glanced at him, then back at Andersson with a  bit of hostility. “I think you need to mind your business.” 

“Alright, alright,” she said, smiling smugly and raising her hands in mock surrender. 

“I know you think you’re funny. But you’re not,” he hissed. 

“I get it, boss. I get it.”

That seemed to be the end of the conversation, then, when Marnie interjected. “So, Commander. Dogs or Cats?"

Gabe’s gaze was pulled towards McCree. He was pushing around a few pieces of food with his fork, his eyes glued to the plate. His cheeks were bright red, Gabe logically thought it was due to when he had choked on his juice.

Gabe looked to Marnie. “I used to have dogs when I was younger.”

“Oooh. What kind?”

“Two chihuahuas and a german shepard.”

Gabe glanced back at McCree again, a bit perplexed, before brushing it off and turning towards his plate.

 

~~~

 

Gabe considered the message on his comm to be a blessing. It was only two words, but it meant moving forward in the shit they were currently stuck in.

**From: Z**

**He’s cleared.**

 

~~~

 

“Meeting adjourned.”

Nobody outright said it, but a vibe of elated relief settled over the conference room. Immediately, tense silence was filled with coughs and grumbles that were held in for a whole two hours. The meeting was far longer than anticipated, though there wasn’t much to be anticipated since the meeting was only called two and a half hours before.  

Most everyone starting to clear  out of the room, chatting and yawning to their co-workers as they went on their way. Gabe stayed seated, fingers roughly drumming on the table as he processed relatively two hours of absolute torture. 

Getting an email at four in the morning about an emergency meeting was definitely not in Gabe’s plans for the day. Now, it was nearing seven and he was aching for a sip of coffee. 

It took only a few minutes for the conference room to empty out, leaving behind only three stragglers other than himself. At the head of the table, said three stragglers were gathered: Ana Amari, Jack Morrison, and Reinhardt Willhelm.

Gabe hadn’t spoken to Reinhardt much, though he knew plenty about his history and his career of good deeds. He was a very kind man, that was for sure, and perhaps a bit overly enthusiastic. Definitely not somebody Gabe found himself eager to invite onto Blackwatch missions. It wasn’t that Agent Willhelm wasn’t capable, it was just that he lacked a sort of… _style_  that Blackwatch Agents tended to stick to.  He was a very large man and he towered over Ana and Jack as the three mumbled quietly to themselves and went through paperwork. Even though it was obvious the three of them were making efforts to lower their voices, Reinhardt was practically speaking at a normal volume.

Gabe debated staying for awhile to listen in, though in the end he felt it was pointless. He didn’t care much about the meeting, anyway. It was mostly discussing media outlets involvement in politics, and how the people were getting rowdy. The omnic crisis was in the past, _mostly_ , and yet they seemed to remember the wrong things about the war they won.

The most troubling thing was the mention of data leaks and whispers of new terrorist groups to look out for. The information on these issues were so vague, though, it was hardly pressing. If anything, it was worthy of a ten minute meeting telling everyone to be wary and keep an eye out.

Gabriel stood loudly, his chair screeching across the tile floor as he did so. 

The three of them glanced up at him. Jack was wearing a scowl, though Gabe could tell it wasn’t entirely pointed towards him. It was obvious that Jack was getting worn out by these theatrics already. He wondered how long he would be able to handle the stress before snapping.

“Just so you know, Morrison, this wasn’t a meeting worthy of two hours. It was also definitely not necessary to arrange it for five in the morning and call it an emergency.”

“You would be up by now, anyway, wouldn’t you, Gabriel?”

Ana had cut in, always the mediator. Her eyebrow was raised and her lips were pursed, looking at Gabe as if he’d better just shut up and go before he provoked anything. Jack looked as if he was just about to open his mouth and reply to his taunts, but was cut off by Ana.

“Actually, I’ve been working on my sleeping schedule. I _should_  be sleeping like a baby, right now,” Gabe said, grinning.

Ana sighed and shook her head. “I am leaving for Sweden in two hours with a group of agents. We are looking into some new technology that Doctor Ziegler is wishing to incorporate into our missions. You think your medic would be interested in a short-notice vacation?”

“I’ll let him know,” Gabe replied. He went to shove his hands into his hoodie pockets, forgetting that he was dressed in full uniform. “I’m assuming I will be meeting the cowboy in the range today.”

“It will give you an opportunity to see his improvements in action,” Ana smiled at him. “You know, I think it is time you consider getting him a weapon to start getting familiar with. And perhaps some clothes that fit him.”

“He’ll grow into them soon enough,” Gabe shrugged. 

“I think you’re misunderstanding. Clothing for _missions_ ,” Ana said. “His birthday is in two weeks. He’ll be cleared for missions, technically.”

“He won’t be ready. I hope you haven’t been getting his hopes up,” Gabe said. He really hoped she wasn’t, considering he’d done enough of that already. He hadn’t even started training the kid in hand-to-hand tactics, not to mention he’d barely started gaining weight back. “I’m not going to send out the string-bean cowboy to get killed.”

“Consider putting him on easy missions, perhaps. I would be happy to take him with me to some simple stakeouts and defenses,” Ana mused. “He could get used to the atmosphere, so he won’t feel so blind going in.”

Gabe pursed his lips. She had a point, as always. “I’ll think about it. Maybe he’ll have his own gun by the time you get back.”

Jack, who Gabe had almost completely forgotten about, cleared his throat then. He was obviously displeased.

“I didn’t say he could go on any Overwatch missions,” he grunted. “I barely let him in here. You don’t want people seeing _him_.”

“Aw, c’mon, Jackie. We can dress him up all nice in pretty in that royal blue color, and have him charm the pants off of audiences everywhere,” Gabe said, smirking. The thought was ridiculously hilarious, even moreso due to how Jack reacted. 

“Back to Jackie, is it, Gabe?”

Gabe smiled, mockingly sweet. “I’ve had a change of heart. There might be hope for the stick in your ass after all.”

That got a chortle out of Reinhardt, who had been observing all of the banter with a small grin. He’d been concealing laughs this whole time, and getting him to break was very satisfying. The way it added to Jack’s scowl just made it even better.

“Gotta go catch up on beauty sleep,” Gabe called to them as he left, waving as he turned and strode out of the room. He felt much better about himself, somehow, despite how childish the notion was. Teasing Jack shouldn’t be this much fun, but it _was_. 

 

~~~

 

“What’re you doin’ here?”

Gabe raised an eyebrow at his greeting. He was sitting on the counter in front of the shooting range, arms crossed. He had been waiting for McCree for twenty minutes. He was late.

“Now, don’t tell me Ana let’s you come late.”

“She don’t mind ten minutes,” McCree shrugged as he approached. He seemed to be easing into his cowboy persona. Gabe almost wanted to laugh at the sight of the toothpick between his teeth. 

“Why don’t I believe that,” Gabe asked him. 

“Cuz you are a very, _very_ , intelligent man,” McCree replied, smiling as he approached. He walked past Gabe towards the lockers where the training weapons were stored. He knew the code for it, and typed it in effortlessly. Gabe almost laughed at that, wondering if McCree was given the code or he had just watched it be put in enough to remember it.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, kid,” Gabe said. “C’mon, hurry up.”

McCree didn’t bother with replying to that, pulling a gun from the locker before shutting it again. He walked over to the counter and started loading the gun.

“I just want to see how much progress you’ve made, alright? Consider it an exam,” Gabe said. 

“Got it,” McCree nodded. He stepped back from the counter, then stared expectantly at Gabe.

“What?”

“You gonna move?”

“You’ll be shooting with people way closer than this. Get used to it.”

Gabe thought he saw McCree roll his eyes, but he didn’t say anything about it. He shifted over just barely, then settled in to watch McCree shoot.

Unsurprisingly, McCree had improved immensely. His technique was far more refined than it had been before. He was no longer just taking shots when he saw them, but instead lining them up strategically in a way that would do the most damage with the least possible. His stance allowed for the perfect flow of movement. Overall, Gabriel was _impressed_. He was fairly sure that McCree’s shooting could rival his own. It made Gabe eager to see how the kid would do in a real combat situation.

The hour of practice passed by in nearly complete silence. McCree had cursed a few times between gunshots, but otherwise stayed quiet and focused with his tongue between his teeth in concentration. 

“Alright, that’s enough, McCree. Take a break.”

McCree let off a final gunshot, taking the final target down in one shot.

McCree whistled. “Wow. Think that was my fastest time.”

“Impressive,” Gabe said, as nonchalantly as he could.

McCree looked over at him. “Yeah?”

Gabe nodded.”I want you to come back tonight at dinner, so I can start sparring with you.”

“Oh, we startin’ that already?”

“Ziegler cleared you,” Gabe explained. “The sooner you know the proper techniques the sooner you can get out onto the field.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” McCree said. “I’m lookin’ forward to it. It’s gettin’ boring bein’ all stuffed up in here. Andersson takes me out into the rest of HQ sometimes, but you can only do that so many times before that gets repetitive too.”

“Well, you have two weeks, if I remember right.”

“A little less.”

“Amari offered to take you on some more mellow missions before you went on any with Blackwatch, y’know, so you don’t get your ass kicked.”

“You are so confident in my ability to get my ass kicked, and yet you tell me my shootin’s great.”

“Your ability to aim has nothing to do with how easy someone could kick your ass,” Gabe explained.

“Y’know, every damn thing that comes outta your mouth could be quoted,” McCree mumbled. He was chewing on the toothpick in his mouth like it was a piece of taffy. 

“It’s a skill I have,” Gabe said. “Alright, I’ll see you at training later. Tomorrow, you’re starting on weights.”

“How many times am I gonna have to be in this damn training room a day?”

“You _really_ don’t know your math, do you kid?”

McCree frowned.

 

~~~

  
  


“This is a lot of fucking work,” Jesse panted. He was exhausted already. His legs felt like jelly, and he could feel them wobble each time he shifted to stay away from Reyes.

At first, he was excited for one-on-one training with his commander. Something about it made him feel _special_ , which he attributed to the fact that he was lacking in the positive learning experiences with other human beings.

Either way, he hadn’t realized how much effort he’d have to put into this. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back. The tank top he was wearing was practically glued to his skin, as were his boxers which was a particularly disgusting observation to make.

“Less chatting,” Reyes grinned at him. He looked all too pleased to be lunging at Jesse and taking swings at him, which was slightly worrying. Jesse didn’t think he was /that annoying, but his commander was making it seem like it was a pleasure to be chasing him around.

Reyes lunged at Jesse again. His reaction was delayed, and while he managed not to get grappled, Reyes fingers nearly tore the bottom of his shirt as he yanked at it. Jesse stumbled and made a dash for the opposite side of the ring. 

“How long we gonna do this,” Jesse whined. His feet hurt. Reyes hadn’t let him wear his shoes on the mats, and he had stubbed his toes into the surprisingly sturdy material far too many times. He was sure his poor little piggies would need a trip down to the medbay, or at least the first aid kit in Blackwatch’s kitchen.

“Until you fuck up and I can teach you a lesson,” Reyes gritted out. He lunged again, and this time he was able to catch Jesse’s arm. Jesse tried to yank it away, and nearly had his arm ripped out of its socket as he did so.

He let out a noise of pain and stumbled. Reyes was easily able to grapple him, one arm pinned behind his back in a _very_ painful position.

“So, this hurts doesn’t it?” Reyes wasn’t even breathing heavily, which made Jesse pissed enough. 

“Yes. It does,” Jesse snarled. “Let go of me.”

“So, imagine this, twenty million times worse, when you get stabbed or shot or just killed if someone catches you. Get it?”

“Y-Yeah,” Jesse replied. “I get it. Now let go of me.”

Reyes let go, and Jesse stumbled forward. He turned, scowling at his commander. He rubbed at his shoulder, wincing at how sore it felt. 

“Fuck, nearly tore it outta my socket.”

“That’s fixable, if it does happen. Wouldn’t even have to go to the medbay,” Gabe shrugged, smiling at him. “You did good at evading. If you had done that long enough in those circumstances, backup probably would’ve been able to arrive to help you.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jesse breathed out. “Can I get water?”

“Normally, no. But you look like you’re about to keel over, so sure.”

That one little pleasure Gabe granted him nearly had Jesse moaning. He rushed over to the rusty water fountain in the training room, gulping down the lukewarm water. He splashed some on his face and sighed, happy to be out of the ring. All of the experiences he’s had in that thing had _not_  been positive by any means.

He leaned back on the wall next to the water fountain and stared back at Reyes in the ring. He looked perfectly fine standing there, staring up at the blank ceiling of the training room. He hadn’t even broken a sweat which was _insane_.

Though, now that he thought about it, Jesse didn’t recollect a time where his commander looked particularly sweaty. He was fairly sure that Reyes hadn’t _ever_  shown any sort of physical proof of strain or struggle when it came to working out, which was, impressive and just damn impossible. Jesse wasn’t sure if it was terrifying or respect worthy-- in the end he figured it was /both.

He walked back over to the mats a minute later, stepping over the elastic ropes and back into the ring. 

“You gonna teach me any off-”

“No. Defense only, for now. Primarily evasion tactics. As of now, your only hope against anybody you’d be facing would be playing dirty. Pressure points, sensitive areas, that sort of shit. Unless you’re the one attacking, you won’t really get those opportunities.”

“Alright, so just more running away like a coward.”

“It’s not being a coward, it’s being _smart_ , McCree. C’mon, kid, don’t be an idiot.”

“Fine, guess you gotta point. What’s next, then?”

Reyes grinned at him. “Let me show you something, come over here.” Reyes gestured with his hand, and Jesse stepped closer.

Reyes put up a hand to stop him, and Jesse did so. Reyes stepped back a few steps, just enough so that his fist could brush Jesse’s cheek.

“I can touch you from here, see? I can punch you square in the face,” Reyes said.

“Yeah, I can see that. Please don’t,” Jesse mumbled. Reyes’ knuckles were rough and calloused.

“Now, you try to reach me from where you are,” Reyes said.

Jesse did. The distance between them was too large, and he could barely cover half the distance between them with his cheek pressed against Reyes’ fist.

“I can’t.”

“Yeah, but you can kick me.”

Jesse lifted his leg experimentally, finding that he could indeed kick out and reach Reyes.

“Now, don’t do that, because I’m not wearing anything to protect my stomach, but you can see you  _can_  kick me.” Reyes stepped back. “This is useful if they come at you head on. If you can do a front kick, they won’t be expecting it. They’ll be caught off guard and surprised. If you get a good enough kick on them, they’ll have the wind knocked out of them, or be pretty damn injured. Use that to your advantage. You’re smarter than them.”

“Okay, I get that,” Jesse nodded. He kicked out again into the air experimentally, and nearly fell on his ass as he lost his balance.

“Easy, easy,” Reyes cautioned him. “We’ll have to practice. For now, just work on your balance, alright? Stand on one leg and kick out, try not to fall over. Do flamingos if you have to.”

“Do _what_ ,” Jesse asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Reyes sighed and modeled the position for him. Jesse wasn’t sure if it was funny enough to risk laughing at him. 

Reyes _majestically_ raised his left foot behind him and grabbed it. He didn’t even quiver as he did so, effortlessly balanced on one leg.

“ _That_ ,” Reyes said. “Fucking grade schoolers know how to do that, McCree. C’mon.”

“Aight, aight, sorry. ‘S been awhile since I’ve been in grade school, boss,” Jesse laughed.

He tried to mimic Reyes’ position, and nearly immediately found himself stumbling. He caught himself before he fell onto his face, which saved him _that_  embarrassment.

“Damn, that’s kinda hard.”

“Ahuh. Practice. I want you to be able to do that _and_ kick out without falling by the time we practice again.”

“When will that be?” Jesse had heard Blackwatch discussing a couple missions coming up, but he didn’t know if his commander would be going on any of them.

“I’ll comm you. Not tomorrow, though. Maybe the day after. Ana and I will both be gone tomorrow, though, so you’ll have to do your shooting by yourself.”

“Got it,” Jesse nodded. 

“I’ll check your hours to make sure you do it,” Reyes said, his voice stern. Jesse found this laughable, as if he would need to be threatened into doing one of his favorite pass times here.

“Don’t worry, boss. I will.”

“I’ll tell Huber I want you on weights tomorrow. I’ll ask him to spot you and make sure you’re doing it safely.”

“I doubt I’ll hurt myself,” Jesse scoffed. “C’mon, I’m not _that_  much of a fuck up.”

“I know,” Reyes nodded. “Sometimes,” he added, a bit quieter.

Jesse rolled his eyes. “You’re damn _mean_.”

“You still complaining about that? At this point, it seems kind of useless. C’mon kid, don’t waste your breath.”

 

~~~

 

The rest of the week went by quickly  for Jesse. He found out from Marnie that Reyes was scheduled for two back-to-back missions this week, and that he wouldn’t be back until the following Wednesday at the earliest.

Jesse wasn’t sure _why_  he felt so disappointed, but he didn’t voice his feelings with anyone else. Andersson was gone the first part of the week, and came back late on Thursday. 

She’d come into his room at eleven that night, her hair still damp from a recent shower and smelling of shampoo. Despite this, she looked like a mess, and carried a bottle of whiskey at her side.

“Damn, you look like shit, Andersson,” Jesse had commented when he’d answered his door. He looked down at the woman, genuinely concerned for her wellbeing.

“Wow! _Thanks_ , cowboy. It smells like B.O. in here,” she laughed in return, her voice dripping with a sort of fakeness that made her harsh words hurt less. Even so, Jesse sniffed the air of his quarters, and was alarmed when he couldn’t smell anything.

“Uh- you wanna come in?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna, stand out in the doorway,” she sniffled. She was avoiding direct eye contact, and her dark hair was obscuring her eyes. 

Jesse stood to the side to let her in, offering a grand sweeping gesture with his arm that seemed far too fancy for what was beyond the doorway. A room with dirty clothes on the floor that apparently had the stench of B.O.

Andersson brushed past him into his room, immediately seating herself on his bed with a huff. She pushed his tablet off of the bed and nearly sent it falling onto the floor, though Jesse was quick enough to leap forward and catch it before it could shatter.

“Jesus christ, Andersson. The hell is wrong with you?”

“Fucking-- _nothing_ , idiot. Now, sit next to me and drink this whiskey.”

Jesse didn’t particularly know why he hesitated to accept. “I- I ain’t eighteen yet, y’know. That’s next Friday-”

“Y’think I care,” she scoffed. “Don’t make me drink this alone like some pathetic loser.”

Jesse pursed his lip, but was ultimately easily persuaded. He settled next to her on his bed, throwing a stinky sweatshirt on the floor as he settled back. His bed was pressed against the wall, and he leaned back against it with a sigh. 

The room settled into silence, filled only  with breathing and  uneasy tension. Jesse wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, but the way she was acting didn’t settle right with him. It didn’t feel right to have  _Andersson_  of all people, moping. 

It took a minute or so of silence before she actually opened the bottle. She took a long swig of it, tipping her head back as she did so. She passed it over to Jesse once she was done, not even glancing at him. She braced her elbows on her legs and leaned forward. Jesse wasn’t sure how Andersson could look so _tense_  while _slouching_.

Jesse took the bottle gratefully. He took a sip, nothing near the gulp that Andersson had taken. He hadn’t had any drinks in a while. A couple times, when he was younger and stupid. He had grown to realize that it wasn’t _safe_  to be drunk with how he used to live. He took an extra sip, relishing in the burn down his throat, before holding the bottle out to her.

“Hey, Andersson.”

No response. He wiggled the bottle, and the amber liquid sloshed inside the bottle.

“Andersson. Andy. An- uhh Annie?”

He figured that a couple of stupid nicknames might lighten the mood a bit.

“Don’t fucking call me that, cowboy,” she growled. She glanced back and snatched the bottle from his hand. Jesse pulled his hand back, as if she was an angry dog threatening to snap at him.

“Goddamn,” he huffed, eyes wide. 

He watched her take another three long gulps of in, each in quick succession. He had yet to see her eyes, and wondered what they looked like. He felt that it would be telling if he could just get a glance, but decided not to risk it.

They sat in silence for a good sixty minutes, passing the bottle between themselves. Andersson chugged down the majority of it, not to say that Jesse hadn’t had enough to get tipsy. The bottle was empty by the end of the hour, much to Andersson’s displeasure.

Jesse watched her, slightly worried, as she cursed at the empty bottle. Before he could do anything to stop her, she raised her hand and chucked the bottle at the wall with a scream of frustration.

“Woah! Holy shit! Andersson what the _fuck_ ,” he shouted at her, nearly falling off his bed at the startling sound of glass shattering. He really hoped the rooms were sound proof, otherwise that might raise some questions from Marsh next door.

She didn’t reply, just sat silently, _trembling_. Jesse hadn’t noticed it before, and couldn’t say for certain, but was fairly sure she’d been shaking the whole time. 

“Andersson?”

Again, there was no reply from her, except for a harsh staggered breaths and sniffles. 

Jesse cautiously scooted closer to her on the bed, eyes locked on her form. He didn’t want her to get _aggressive_ , or at least, any more aggressive than she already had. He wasn’t exactly sure _how_  he’d clean the shards of glass sprinkled in his carpet. 

“Andersson?”

He reached a hand out, letting it hover over her shoulder. He was surprised, when she let it settle. He squeezed gently, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“Andersson?”

“I got a call,” she replied. Her voice was barely a whisper, a rasp of sound that Jesse nearly asked her to repeat before coming to his senses. “I-I gotta call. From home.”

A call from home was never good. It was something that traveled under the guise of warmth and comfort, only to snatch away any hope of it and send you into a spiral of utter _shit_. A call home was just a nice way to say bad news. Jesse had gotten those calls far too many times.

Jesse let out a breath. He could feel Andersson trembling under his fingertips. Her skin was warm and soft under.

“Bad news, then,” he asked, filling the silence. He lowered his voice to her level. 

He saw her head bob in an affirmative reply.

“I’m real sorry,” Jesse murmured. 

“Don’t need your pity,” she said, her attempts at a cold laugh failing and succumbing to a fit of sniffles and choked off sobs.

“Y’wanna talk?”

“I’m not sure yet.” 

“Alright. Take your time.”

She took his words quite literally, it seemed. It felt like hours before she spoke again, in a heart-wrenching voice that just didn’t sound like her own. It sounded so broken.

“I got the call when we were on mission,” she whispered. She paused, took a deep unsteady breath. Then another. “I came home early. Everyone else is coming back on Saturday, I think. W-We were pretty much done, though. Commander insisted.”

“So, he knows what this is about?” 

“I-I tried to hold it together a-as long as I could,” she stammered, her voice breaking up. “It’s n-not good to bottle up emotions, though,” she said, laughing sourly. It must’ve been louder than she meant it to be, since she startled herself as if fell from her lips.

Jesse nodded, though she couldn’t see him. He shifted his hand slowly to her back, a comforting gesture that she actually leaned into. He hoped that was a good sign.

Jesse wasn’t a stranger to how to comfort people. He’d been doing it all his life, to friends, strangers, _himself_ even. He was surprised that Andersson came to him, though. He thought that perhaps she would’ve gone to Marnie, or hell- _anybody_ else in Blackwatch. 

“My m-mother passed,” she murmured. Jesse felt her breathing stutter as she spoke the words, and wasn’t surprised when he heard a sob break past her lips. “A-and I-I-I just- I-I haven’t s-seen her in a-ages and sh-she’s …” She trailed off, and barely two seconds passed before a full sob shook her body. It was as if the dam was breaking then, and Jesse was _thoroughly_  shocked when Andersson turned and buried her face in his chest in a fit of sobbing.

He wrapped his arm around her once he got past the shock of it, murmuring gentle words of comfort as he rubbed her back. She cried into his shirt as if it was her first time crying, trembling and sniffling and coughing on her own snot. _A mess_ , Jesse’s mind supplied, though that was far too cruel to say to anybody that was grieving. 

Her weeping didn’t let up for a while, and her shaky breaths didn’t even off until Jesse was fairly sure she was asleep. Jesse was glad that she was, hoping that sleep gave her mind some respite from lamenting her mother’s passing.

Jesse wasn’t a stranger to this sort of thing, and could distinctly remember how terrible it felt to lose his mother. The thought of it made his heart ache, though he didn’t cry for her anymore. 

Jesse shifted Andersson so that he could gently lift her and lay her down on his bed. He wouldn’t wake her and force her to walk back to her own room, that was just cruel. Instead, he tossed his only blanket over her and made sure her head was comfortably resting on the pillow.

He got up from his small bunk and sighed. Her short hair had dried, and was now sticking up everywhere. He couldn’t see her actual eyeballs, but he could see where her skin was red and puffy from crying. She looked so vulnerable lying there, which just seemed damn impossible.

It surely couldn’t be _Andersson_  who just cried herself to sleep in his arms. He’d never seen the lady as much as _blink_ , let alone shed a damn tear unless she was laughing her ass.

He realized, disappointedly, that he did not have another pillow in his room, nor another blanket. He sighed and grabbed his dirty hoodie off the floor, pulling it over his head before settling on the foot of his bed. He sat back against the wall and tucked his feet up to his chest. 

When Jesse woke up the next morning, Andersson was gone. She didn’t leave anything behind. He was surprised to see that the glass shards were picked from his carpet and disposed of accordingly. 

When he saw her again, she gave off no sign that the incident had ever happened. She was the same as ever, loud and hilarious, confident and strong. She made everyone laugh and piss their pants at the same time. She didn’t mention the incident at all, and Jesse decided that it was for the best that he didn’t either.

The only thing that was different was that her words seemed to lack their normal _harshness_ the few times that he actually spoke to her. She seemed to be avoiding him, which was understandable. He wondered if he was imagining it.

 

~~~

 

Jesse’s boredom was surprisingly effective in some ways. Andersson’s sudden inclination to avoid him had left him with around a week and a bit total with nobody to talk to. His only requirements were to go to group training and to put in his hours at the range, which left the second half of his day empty. He was almost shocked, really, to find that this had sparked his sudden ambition to finish his online courses as quickly as possible. 

He supposed before that  he did enough of it, but definitely not enough to finish before his birthday. Things were looking up for him, though, when it was nearing one in the morning and he was finishing his final math assessment. 

Jesse was infinitely glad that he was not required to take any fancy classes to get his degree. Just the bare minimum, and even then, he technically only had to pass with a D. He was very proud when he viewed his final results, and saw that he had a C in everything except for his geometry course, which he was still resentful towards and swore he would be for the rest of his life.

He let out a cheer as he stared at the screen, scrolling down through the courses with a stupid grin on his face. He had _done_  it. Technically, it meant he never had to read a damn textbook again, which he was immensely grateful for, and he never had to hurt his eyes reading the tiny text off of the too-bright screen. 

He set his tablet to the side with a satisfied grin settled onto his face. He sighed and glanced over at the clock on his wall, finally noticing what time it was. Past midnight.

“Happy birthday to me,” he chuckled, biting his lip. He hadn’t been this excited for a birthday since he was very young, when he had looked forward to cake and presents. Now, though, he knew it meant so much. _True_  freedom, a full-proof way to spend the rest of his life. 

Well, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure about that, but he would have to deal with it for now. It would be idiotic to have not accepted Reyes’ offer. This was his only way to keep living, living a _real_ life.

Jesse was eighteen now. Officially. He was an _adult_. He was his own person now, in a sense. 

He wasn’t that naive to think that working where he was now going to mean he wasn’t going to be bossed around, but at least he wasn’t being treated like shit while it was happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw my poor Andersson 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM IMMENSELY SORRY FOR NOT POSTING UNTIL NOW. Stuff came up, and I got busy, along with massive writers block. BUT FINALLY I HAVE THE CHAPTER FOR YOU ALL. I'M SORRY FOR THE WAIT I HOPE IT'S NOT TERRIBLE.
> 
> This chapter has some violence stuff sprinkled everywhere. Also plot :))))
> 
> Also, I apologize this is barely edited I don't have a beta

Jesse’s deep, peaceful slumber was interrupted by a series of loud pings. They did not occur in rapid succession, but instead spaced roughly forty-five seconds apart and continued consistently until they could not be ignored. Jesse had tried, he really had. He buried his head in his pillow, tried to will the sound away. In his otherwise silent quarters, however, each ping was just startling enough to keep him from submerging back into sleep. 

He groaned and sat up _very_  slowly. Dragging himself out of bed was a challenge, and he still wasn’t sure how he accomplished it every morning. He yawned and stood, stretching his arms above his head. He felt his back crack as he did so, and let out what could be considered a sensual moan. 

His tablet was resting on the small chair in his room, waiting for him. It pinged again as he picked it up, and as the screen flashed in the dim light (he must’ve left the lamp on), he saw a message from Captain Amari that was labeled urgent.

The words shook the sleep from his bones immediately. He opened his tablet and read the message, ignoring the grogginess and pretending he did not have to reread certain sentences to grasp their full meanings.

 

**It has come to my attention that you are now legally an adult and your probation is finished. As far as I am concerned, you seem Blackwatch-worthy, and I have yet to speak to Reyes on the matter officially, but he seems to agree. He is still on mission now, so I will be filling in for him in certain aspects of the process. Come to my office as soon as possible.**

 

**-Captain Ana Amari**

 

Jesse’s eyes skimmed over the text twice, to be sure he read it correctly. He had almost forgotten that he had turned eighteen, that he was now technically a Blackwatch Agent. (He was fairly sure that wasn’t how it worked, but he practically was, right?)

He was slightly disappointed that his commander was not here to explain things, though he refused to get too upset about it, or even /think about why he might be upset over such a trivial thing. Reyes would just tease him the whole time anyway. Captain Amari would be far more professional about the situation, so he supposed it was for the best.

He set his tablet down and set to getting ready for the day as fast as he could. He was eager to get on with the whole “agent” thing. He was particularly excited for being allowed to wander the base and the streets, and that sweet sweet money he’d be paid for his brave service.

He got down to Amari’s office in roughly thirty minutes. He had traveled the halls assuming her office would be close to where Reyes’ were. His assumption was correct. There was a large hallway containing many doors, each one with bronze labels inscripted with names.  He found Amari’s and rapped his knuckles on the door.

It slid open almost instantly to reveal a space very similar to Reyes’ office, size-wise at least. Its decor was much more personalized and comfy. Her desk was the same model as Reyes’, though her chair was slightly smaller and more akin to a normal desk chair. She had various things covering her desk, though three picture frames stood out. Of course, each one was filled with a picture of Captain Amari’s daughter. 

Two shelves lined the right wall. One of them was filled to the brim with books. _That_ was strange. Jesse didn’t realize people still kept books around, they were found to be annoying nowadays, viewed more as antiques rather than entertainment or knowledge. Copies of them could easily be found in digital form, so many found physical copies to be useless. What made it more perplexing, was that the books looked to be leather bound and fairly expensive. Jesse was fairly sure that a physical book was worth at least a hundred bucks depending on its condition.

The other shelf was filled with various knick-knacks, awards, and more photos. There were a few bronze statues depicting a woman, though Jesse could not make out who it was without looking closer.

Amari sat behind her desk, fingers clasped around what Jesse assumed was a cup of tea. Not a single hair was out of place on her head, and she was dressed in her normal uniform, sans overcoat. The wall behind her was fully glass, and the bright morning light illuminated her in a  _very_  regal fashion.

“You arrived faster than I expected,” Amari greeted, a small smile playing on her lips. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”

Jesse did what he was told, falling into the chair across from Amari. He realized it was slightly lower, and gave Amari quite the height advantage while sitting-- a clever intimidation tactic. 

“I am surprised that you wake up this early.”

Jesse shrugged. He wasn’t completely sure of the time, though he did know it was past five in the morning. That was a few hours earlier than he was used to waking up.

“I was receivin’ an important message. Thought it was best to respond as soon as I could,” Jesse replied with an easy smile.

“Is that so?”

“I am also excited to be off probation,” Jesse said.

“Understandably, It must have been terrible being stuck inside this whole time?”

Jesse thought of the night that Reyes had taken him to the roof. He remembered the cool, summer night’s air. He remembered the faint smell of pollution that he ignored in favor of the fact that it was _fresh_  air. He remembered the starless sky. He remembered smoking a single cigarette. He remembered how they talked about everything, how Reyes’ words easily quelled Jesse’s uneasy feelings. He remembered Reyes’ laugh, a laugh that _Jesse_  had caused.

“It was,” Jesse nodded. “The whole cycle of the same thing every damn day was fuckin’ torturous, also, by the way. Awful. Fairly sure I can shoot some o’ those ranges with my eyes closed.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” Amari said with an air of pride. She smiled at Jesse. “You have improved a lot since you have arrived. Your skills have improved immensely, as well as your physical health. I also noticed that you have finished your schooling?”

“Yup,” Jesse beamed. “Straight C’s. Coulda done better, probably, but I don’ really care all that much. Wanted to jus’ get it done, y’know?”

“The fact that you managed to do so in such a small amount of time is immensely impressive,” Amari hummed.

“Thank ya’. I totally take pride in these meaningless tests and words that I was forced t’read.”

“Oh, yes, of course you do,” Amari said, tone dripping with the same sarcasm that Jesse had used. “Either way, the agreement you signed with us earlier has been fulfilled. You are of legal age, you have finished your basic schooling, you have proved to be an asset.”

“So, does that mean I’m gettin’ official agent status today?”

Amari pursed her lips. “Well, no. Not exactly. I might have fibbed a bit on that message. It seems inappropriate for me to do a job that Commander Reyes is responsible for. I am also not sure how he wants to go about the paperwork and sneaking you into the system. So, I shall leave that to him.”

Jesse tried to hide his disappointment. He was thrilled to experience the freedom that would come with Blackwatch-agent status, and the thought of putting it off was a bit demoralizing.

“What does that mean I am, then?”

“An unofficial agent,” Amari answered. “Technically, since your probation is over, you _could_  go on missions.”

The thought of missions was exciting. A chance to get out of base, to put his skills to the test, to prove that he was worthy of this opportunity.

“Though, that would be slightly tricky too. I am sure I can figure that out,” Amari said, mostly to herself, with how she lowered her voice to a low murmur. She tapped her fingertips on her desk.

“So, are you tellin’ me I can go on a mission soon?”

“Yes. Today, in fact,” Amari affirmed. “It is a simple mission. A stakeout.  We should return in the early hours of tomorrow.” 

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “So, I’m goin’ on a mission?”

Amari rolled her eyes. “ _Yes_. How many times must I answer the same question?”

“Sorry, ma’am. I jus’- can’t believe it.”

“Do you want to go on the mission?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jesse nodded eagerly.

“Well, in that case, we have one more thing to do.” She rolled her chair back and stood abruptly. She retrieved her overcoat from the back of her chair, and started to put her arms through the sleeves.

“Uh- what’s that?”

“You need a weapon. You won’t need it for this mission in particular, but it is protocol for missions no matter the risk involved.”

Jesse’s eyes widened. “I- I get my own gun,” he stammered.

“Yes. Must you need things repeated so often?”

~~~

 

Jesse had been trailing after Captain Amari for what felt like ages. He had started the trip at her side, but soon found that keeping up with her was a bit of a struggle. She was far shorter than him, and yet her stride seemed far longer and far more powerful.

He’d settled for just slightly behind her, staying on her heels as to avoid the numerous groups of Overwatch agents that seemed to come in waves. Her presence dominated the halls, silencing conversations and earning looks of respect and admiration. It was incredibly powerful, and he almost felt honored to be walking so close behind her.

They had taken an elevator to the very bottom floor of Overwatch HQ, a place that Jesse had yet to have visited. Unlike the numerous floors above them, the bottom floor was no carbon copy.

The floor plans were very open, its walls shiny and white with accents of blues. Posters and statues lined the walls, roped off individually as if they were exhibits. Looking at it closer, Jesse saw that they were _indeed_  exhibits. 

People and omnics were wandering around the place, looking at said exhibits with happiness and awe on their faces. Young children were racing around with excitement, pointing and squealing. 

Others waltzed around in fancy suits with briefcases by their sides. For some reason, Jesse found them more perplexing than Blackwatch Agents. How was it possible to not have a single hair out of place?

Captain Amari gave him very little time to ogle the sight of anything. She was already on her way with a sort of determination, leaving Jesse in the dust. He was able to catch up to her, navigating the crowds and narrowly avoiding collisions. He apologized as he went, and nearly ran smack into Amari’s back as she stopped suddenly.

She had stopped before a metal door, roped off with a finger scanner to its left. Besides it stood an actual _guard_ , dressed in a security uniform rather than an Overwatch uniform. 

The guard stood tall, face stern. Their hair was cut short, and their face was almost comically similar to the shape of a rectangle. 

“Who’s this,” they asked, gesturing at Jesse.

“None of your business,” she replied, voice even. There wasn’t necessarily a threat in her voice, but her eyes must’ve been a different story. From this angle, Jesse couldn’t see her face, but he could see the guard’s-- and they looked _terrified_.

“Right, of course,” they nodded. Amari walked forward and pressed her thumb to the scanner. The door clicked, and she pushed it open. It groaned loudly in protest, and looked considerably heavy.

Jesse followed her through the door, which led into a very long cement hallway. The door closed heavily behind them, with a very audible click. The noise made him nervous, reminding him of handcuffs and the sound of doors being locked on him.

The hallway was very different from the rest of the Overwatch Headquarters. It was far from pristine, it’s floors dirty and scuffed. Old gum and other gunk was stuck on the surface of it, marring the grey coloring. The walls were much smoother, though they didn’t look any less dirty. Jesse glanced up, and sure enough, cobwebs were strung from the ceiling. 

“Damn, I almost feel like we’re goin’ to some secret lab or somethin’.”

Amari chuckled. “That’s close enough.”

“Where exactly _are_  we goin’, ma’am?”

The long hallway led to a winding staircase, going _down_. Amari started down them with hesitation, hand briefly sliding across the rails. Jesse peaked over the edge, and saw far too many sets of stairs for his liking.

“To get you a gun,” she said. “Like I mentioned before.”

“Right, and the guns are… in the basement?”

“Practically. There’s a warehouse down there, to store different things. This is also where we have the armory.”

“The _armory_. Damn,” he huffed. “Y’all must have lots of weapons.”

“Most agents that have been with us for a long time, or are considered the… ‘poster children’ of Overwatch, have their own personal weapons. Newer recruits or agents that have not been with us long enough check their weapons out of the armory,” Amari explained. “We try to keep the base as secure as possible.” 

Jesse’s brow furrowed. Secure meant selling tickets to _anyone_  so they could come see some posters, apparently.

“So, am I gonna have to borrow a weapon for awhile.”

“Blackwatch missions are usually much more frequent, and you don’t exactly get a week's notice either, so Commander Reyes prefers that all of his agents are constantly prepared,” Amari said.

Her voice echoed off the cement walls. Their shoes clicked on each stair.

“So, even _new_  Blackwatch agents get to keep their weapon?”

“Yes, though Blackwatch really don’t get new agents frequently. And they don’t get picked up from gangs either,” she chuckled. She glanced back at Jesse. “You really are something, Jesse.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank ya kindly,” he said, smiling back at her.

The bottom of the staircase led to yet another ominous metal door, with yet another scanner. The door opened with a press of her finger, to reveal a large dark room.

Amari made a large sweeping motion and held the door open for Jesse. 

“After you.”

Jesse tentatively walked through the door. The room stayed dark for a few seconds, before a low hum rumbled through the ceiling and bright, fluorescent lights flickered on. He forcibly blinked a few times to adjust his eyes, and when he did, he was shocked by the sight before him.

The room was large and held very little furniture, besides a counter at the very back. The carpet was a very dark grey, but the splotches of different colors indicated that perhaps it was not always that way. Jesse couldn’t see what color the walls were, though, because each one was absolutely _covered_  in weapons.

He couldn’t even name half the things that were being stored. Numerous guns and possibly swords were mounted on the walls, each one painted dull greys and blacks. Jesse stepped towards the closest wall to examine them. The weapons were slightly worn, but well taken care of. Chipped paint and cracked grips seemed to be the only thing wrong with them, and there was really no reason to replace a good gun because it lacks in physicalities.

“God damn,” he breathed out, reached out to run his fingers over the cool metal of a much larger gun. He had no idea what it /was, let alone what it did. It looked far more advanced than anything he’d seen, and from the look of the barrel, it seemed capable of shooting projectiles to topple buildings.

He glanced back towards Captain Amari. She was waiting in the doorway, watching him curiously. A very small grin was playing on her lips, as if he was amusing her.

He turned back to the room and took a step back, shifting his gaze to look for something he recognized. He felt that, if necessary, he could adequately handle any of the firearms in the room. Well, maybe not that weird one he was looking at, but he felt confident in his abilities with most of them. Not that he had picked up anything larger than a handgun before, he just had a feeling that he could manage.

The options before him were almost overwhelming, though he knew that he would not wish to pick up anything besides a revolver. He preferred the gun over others, mostly because of how gorgeous they all looked. No matter the model or how new they were, they always had a rustic look about them. They were usually relatively small, though his old one was a larger model with a long barrel. He wanted something similar to that.

He found it relatively quickly, following the walls and skimming over the selection. The larger firearms soon morphed into smaller ones, and before he knew it, the silver glint of a revolver had caught his eyes. 

The silver did not belong to the gun that his eyes were drawn to, however. His gaze got caught on the revolver, something that did not look traditional in the slightest, and yet enraptured his attention. It was completely covered in a matte-black color, not shiny in the least and relatively bulky at the front. It didn’t look anything like his old gun he used back in Deadlock, but he reached for it anyway.

The weight in his hand was comforting, familiar and yet different. It had a flashlight strapped to the front at the bottom, and a laser sight strapped to the top. A bit overkill, perhaps, but definitely something he could work with.

“You said I could modify it if I want, right?”

“If you have the money for it, yes. Overwatch will not waste funds on anything unnecessary,” Amari said.

Jesse’s brow raised at that, and he was happy that she could not see the doubt that was surely in his eyes. She said it with such confidence, he wondered if she actually thought half the shit Overwatch did was necessary.

“Alright, well, think I found her,” Jesse said with utmost confidence. He turned around with it in his hands, realizing that he hadn’t even glanced at the other revolvers available to him. It just felt… _right_  in his hands.

He walked back to Amari, gun in hand. She took it from him with a hum, turning it over a few times. 

“A bit flashy, no?”

“Is that supposed to be a flashlight pun?”

She looked up at him tersely, lips pressed into a thin line. “No.”

Jesse chuckled awkwardly. “Uh- well, I think she’s got potential. Y’know. Got room for improvement.”

“It’s a revolver with a laser sight and a flashlight what else could you ask for,” she asked incredulously.

“Not functionality-wise, I mean, how it looks.”

“I mean, it _is_  a nice gun. Doesn’t even look touched. Revolvers aren’t frequently used by agents.”

“All the better for me. I get t’break her in,” Jesse beamed. 

She handed the gun back to him without responding. “Alright, well, we can go find ammo for it. Though, you really won’t need it, and don’t have any place for it anyway.”

“So what, it’s just for show?”

“Yes. It would be irresponsible to send someone on a mission, regardless of its expected outcome, without a functioning weapon.”

“Fair ‘nough,” Jesse shrugged. He was fine with having it on him. He knew once he was able to clip it to his belt, the weight of it would be enough to ground him.

“Very well. Let’s finish our preparations. We’ll be taking the hovercraft and then a car into the city.”

“Where we goin’ exactly?”

“Portugal. I will send you the information to read on our trip.”

~~~

 

_Portugal_. Definitely not somewhere Jesse had imagined himself going in his lifetime, at least not until the very moment that he’d stepped onto the small hovering aircraft that should get them into the country fairly quickly. It’s supposed to dump them a few miles from the city that they will be setting up in, and from there an automated car is supposed to retrieve them. 

Amari gives him a few moments to pack anything he might need for an overnight trip, since they will not be back at base until approximately four in the morning the following day. He doesn’t know what he should really pack, considering he doesn’t have much anyway. He decides on the essentials: a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and his tablet. Though Amari assured him the flight would be short, Jesse wasn’t sure what she defined “short” to be. His plan for the flight was as follows: napping, movies, and more napping.

The outside of the aircraft looked very futuristic. Jesse was still amazed at the technology that went behind those machines, and he was also amazed at the fact that he was about to be riding in one for the first time in his life. The loud hums, whirs, and rumbles of the machinery made everything all the more daunting.

The inside of the aircraft was far less intimidating. There were four seats in total, two on the far wall and two opposite of that. They were built into the walls, and the straps on them reminded Jesse of old rickety rollercoaster restraints. There was a table pressed against the wall between them, padded benches built in around it. The wall to the left was bare, save for two doors. One of them was wide open, murmured voices drifting from the room beyond it.

Jesse looked around the aircraft, unsure of where he should be sitting pre-flight or what he should be doing at all. After a few short moments of deliberation, he went to sit in one of the seats built into the wall, putting his bag by his feet.

The seats were more comfortable than they looked, at least without the restraints strapped on him. He took that moment to pull his tablet from his bag, going through messages and ultimately settling on the files Captain Amari had sent him regarding the mission.

He gleamed over it at first, looking for the juicy parts of it. It took him about twenty minutes to realize that he needs to read the whole thing in order to comprehend any of it. He scrolled back to the top of the documents and read the first sentence before he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

He glanced up at Captain Amari, who stood before him dressed fully in black. Her hair was made up into a long braid over her shoulder. 

“Uh- were we supposed to dress up like cat burglars?”

She raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, then shook her head with a huff. “Do not worry, I have clothing for you.”

“You don’t even know my size.”

“I have a daughter who is _very_ picky when it comes to clothing. I am used to spontaneously buying things that she will actually wear, and therefore am very good at eyeballing clothing sizes,” Amari explained. “It is one of my many talents.”

She moved to sit in the seat besides him. “I was just talking to the pilot. We should be leaving in a few minutes. They are just going through last minute checks.”

“Alright, sounds good,” Jesse said. He looked back at his tablet and frowned. “This is a lot of reading.”

“On normal missions, your briefings will be at least twice as long depending on the amount of intel you have going in.”

Jesse hissed. “Eugh. Ain’t lookin’ forward to that.” 

“You will get used to it.”

They lapsed into silence, and Jesse attempted to read through the first page of the briefing. Before he could finish, the lights above him flashed twice, accompanied by a sharp dinging sound. After the second flash, the lights dimmed.

“This is your pilot speaking. We will be taking off in approximately three minutes. Secure your belongings and fasten your seatbelts.” The voice crackled over some sort of speaker system.

Jesse glanced over at Amari, who was already reaching up to strap the restraints on. 

“Uh, where can I put my bag?”

“There is a place under your seat where it should stay put,” Amari said, gesturing to the space below Jesse’s seat.

Jesse put his tablet in his bag and unceremoniously shoved it under his seat. He reached up to secure his seatbelt. He only fumbled with it briefly, and even then he recovered smoothly and figured out how it clicked together.

He settled back into the chair with a huff, adjusting where the straps touched his neck. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, feeling the rumbles of the aircraft increase immensely.

~~~

 

The takeoff was luckily uneventful. Jesse kept his eyes closed for the majority of the time, gripping the armrests until his knuckles were white. It wasn’t that he was necessarily fearful of flying, but the nervous butterflies in his stomach didn’t sit right with him. The cabin remained dark throughout the whole takeoff, so he hoped Captain Amari didn’t see his reaction to it. 

When the aircraft straightened out and the lights flickered on, Jesse let out a breath of relief. He glanced over at Amari, who looked completely unphased. 

“This is your pilot speaking. You may now unfasten your seatbelts and move about the cabin.”

Amari unclipped her seatbelt at that cue, and stood with a sigh. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. 

“Air travel makes me so sleepy,” she commented. 

Even from the inside, he could hear the aircraft defying the laws of gravity as it parted the skies with its movement. Jesse stood very slowly, then crouched to grab his bag. 

He followed Amari over towards the small table. She took a seat leaning against the wall, and Jesse walked around and took the seat opposite. The cushions on the seat were a bit worn, though all in all were relatively comfortable. 

He pulled his tablet from his bag and went back to reading through his briefing. It took him roughly forty minutes to read all of it, word for word.

Apparently, there was a laboratory in a populous coastal city in Portugal that Overwatch had a friendly arrangement with. They were a supplier of sorts, for experimental medicines and battlefield technologies. The lab was not secret by any means, but certain aspects of its experiments and research were underwraps.

The issue, was that roughly a week and a half previously, the laboratory had stopped responding to messages and sending progress updates. This was atypical behavior for those that ran the lab. Overwatch was worried about their new technologies getting into the wrong hands already, and with one of their top suppliers going silent, the higher-ups couldn’t help their paranoia. 

Of course, Overwatch could not just send a strike team into invade with no proof of danger. For all they knew, everything was fine and there was just an issue with their method of communication. That was where Captain Amari and Jesse came in. 

Drone surveillance have noticed that twice a month, on the tenth and the twenty-first, there were deliveries by the same, unmarked truck. The mission was to fly in on the twenty-first, and to gather any intel on the truck and the lab. If anything was suspicious or went awry, then Overwatch could claim that it was necessary to intervene for safety reasons.

Jesse set his tablet down with a huff. “So, what kinda technology do these labs make, exactly?”

“That is confidential,” Amari replied evenly. “Even I am not exactly sure. Our job is to observe what they want us to observe, nothing else.”

“Seems awfully suspicious,” Jesse prompted, eyebrows raised. “Y’know, science-y stuff like this is always suspicious. This shit always goes wrong.”

“Well, neither of us are making the executive decisions, are we?” 

Jesse shrugged. “Jus’ sayin’...” He trailed off with a sigh. “So, we jus’ gonna sit in the car and watch ‘em from a block away.”

“Essentially. We have technologies that we can implement, though. Heat radars, x-rays, nightvision, microphones. We will set these things up roughly four hours before the stakeout, wander away for a bit, then come back as to not raise suspicions.”

“What happens if we get caught?”

“Unless there is something… devious… going on, then nothing. They might give us a parking ticket for parking on the curb, ask what we’re doing, tell us to go away. In that case, we’ll just move and find another vantage point,” Amari stated. 

“If there is actually somethin’ devious?”

“Well, then that gun we got you will come in handy.”

“Really? We can jus’ take ‘em out like that.”

“If our lives are threatened, of course. Self defense. Plus, we’ve been given our orders. This is from the higher-ups, which we have evidence of. We will be fine, I assure you. If anything, you’ll just be bored.”

“On my first mission? I doubt it,” Jesse chuckled. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “It seems excitin’.”

Amari raised an eyebrow at him. “We shall see.”

Captain Amari sighed and lifted a cup of tea to her lips. Jesse didn’t recall her getting any, and when he glanced around, he had no idea where she could boil water. 

“Hey, so uh- you mentioned I get a cool outfit?”

Amari hummed. “Oh, yes.” She set her cup down gently on the table. Jesse glanced down at it, wondering if the movement of the aircraft would spill the tea. It didn’t seem to, which was just slightly nerve-wracking.

Amari stood and went to retrieve her bag. She pulled a stack of black clothing from it, that somehow was able to maintain its folded position. She sat back down and handed it to him.

He took the first piece of clothing off the pile, and it unraveled to reveal a black, long-sleeved shirt. There were no Overwatch insignia printed on it. 

“The plan, once we land down, is to find somewhere to wait until nightfall. We will park outside of an inn a few blocks from the lab, and I will go and place cameras down. You will wait in the car for me to return, and at approximately 2000 we will get in position.”

Jesse nodded. “Easy ‘nough. Though, what’re the cameras for?”

“Monitoring. They’re very small, the size of a coin, perhaps. They will record sound, as well as visuals, and will detect anything… peculiar that we might be able to see. They’re disposable, and stream back to our vehicle. It’ll record what we see on the screens for evidence to hand back to the bosses.”

“That’s mighty fancy technology,” Jesse hummed. A camera the size of a coin that could do all that? It was probably worth more than his whole life.

“It’s hardly the most sophisticated piece of machinery Overwatch has,” Amari shrugged. “Why don’t you get changed and then nap for the rest of the ride?”

“Do I look that tired?”

“Yes, and I think your nerves are getting the best of you.”

“I ain’t nervous,” Jesse scoffed. It was a simple mission, after all. And yet, now that he was paying attention to it, his leg was bouncing up and down and his stomach was twisting in knots.

Amari raised an eyebrow and hummed. “I am sure you are not.” 

~~~

 

Jesse hummed to himself, trying to distract himself from the nagging feeling of worry. He was given one of the easiest jobs: sit in the car and wait. 

The sun was long gone, and so was Captain Amari. The stars were twinkling brightly above him. They reminded him of Deadlock Gorge, laying on the rooftops and staring up at the sky. These weren’t his stars, though. They looked foreign and _wrong_ , not as dark, and it just added to the off putting atmosphere.

The streets were dark save for dull streetlights. Occasionally, a car would pass by fast enough to rattle the one he  was sitting in. They had parked on the street outside of a small, dingy inn. It looked homely, if anything, and perhaps slightly dirty. 

There was nothing blatantly wrong, really. It was just a strange feeling in his belly, and his head warning him about nothing.

He was nearly startled out of his boots when his borrowed comm crackled to life.

_ “Agent McCree. Come in Agent McCree.” _

It was Amari’s voice, accompanied by the slightest hint of static.

“Agent McCree, here,” he replied immediately. “What’s takin’ you so long?”

He might have asked a bit rudely, but he was worried. Amari said at most, it would take her an hour to place the cameras. It had been nearly _two_.

_ “There was a bit of trouble. While I was walking back, someone came and started speaking to me. They looked like a normal bystander, but I saw a possible weapon at their side. I didn’t want to tip them off, and let them walk me to a hotel nearby. I’m walking back now. Going a different route.” _

“That’s… suspicious,” Jesse rumbled. He bit his lip. “Where’d they stop ya?”

“I was taking side streets and alleyways, they stopped me maybe a block away from the inn and led me in nearly the exact opposite direction,” she explained. “Which is leading me to believe that perhaps they know your whereabouts and have been following us. Do you see anything?"

Jesse leaned forward a bit in his seat to look around. The street looked completely still, unnaturally so. The feeling in his belly intensified. 

“I don’t _see_  nothin’, but-- somethin’ don’t sit right with me.”

_ “Keep an eye out. Don’t do anything stupid. Gabriel will kill me if I lose his new agent on his first mission.” _

Jesse scoffed at that. “He’d probably thank ya,” he chuckled. The thought of Commander Reyes being _that_  upset with him dying was a perplexing one, though. It made his stomach feel fluttery for a completely different reason.

_ “I can see the car, I am down the street. Do you see me?” _

Jesse peered out into the dark street. It took him a few moments, but with enough squinting he spotted a figure at the end of the street under the streetlight.

“Yeah, yeah. You under the streetlight?” 

Amari didn’t respond for a few moments, a few worrying moments. The silence of the comm channel was paired with sudden revelation that there were _two_  figures down the street. One of them was a bit closer, sticking to the shadows on the opposite side of the street. The stature of that figure was far closer to that of Captain Amari’s. Jesse’s stomach dropped.

The figure in the middle of the street was definitely _not_  Captain Amari.

“I got eyes on an unidentified figure. Tall, broad… it ain’t you. I don’t think it sees you, stay where you are.”

Amari did not reply, nor did she move from her spot hidden in the shadows. Jesse got the hint that she was trying to be quiet. 

The figure stood completely still for a few moments, then it shifted in place. It’s arm went to do something. 

“Uh, unidentified person is doin’ somethin’ fishy.”

Amari didn’t respond. Jesse tried to keep his eyes on both figures, not wanting to look away and either of them disappear.  

“You should stay where ya are. Maybe they think I’m alone and will underestimate me.”

_”Affirmative_ ,” was what he got in reply, nearly blending in with the whisper of static.

He bit his lip and drummed his fingers nervously on his belt where his new revolver sat. He was itching to pull her out and try her out on the figure down the street, but knew that would be stupid. Instead, he took deep breaths and gnawed on his lip, hoping the urge to do something irrational would subside. 

He was so focused on the figure under the streetlight, that he barely noticed the figure approaching behind the car. The doors were locked, luckily, he wasn’t that stupid, but the shadow suddenly passing through the rearview mirror was startling. 

Jesse did his best not to jump and stay calm, pretend like he didn’t notice it. He kept his head facing forward, while he moved his eyes to the right and left to see if he could track the figure. He abstained from reporting the observation to Amari, figuring she already saw and afraid of tipping off whoever was trying to get the jump on him.

He pretended to be startled when there was a tap on the window next to him. He jumped and turned his head quickly, trying his best to pull off the old deer in headlights trick. 

The figure at the window was tall, dressed suspiciously in what looked to be a cloak of some sort. The hood was pulled over the person’s eyes, casting a shadow over their features. 

Jesse gulped. “U-uh, howdy? You need a-anythin’?”

The figure tilted its head slightly. Jesse noticed a very slight glow from under the hood. A voice replied, muffled through the window. It sounded robotic and monotone in such a creepy way. Was it an omnic?

“What are you doing out here, sir?”

Jesse bit his lip. “Imma tourist. Was jus’ y’know, waitin- ‘round.”

“Were you? For what exactly?”

The voice was off-putting in so many ways. Jesse couldn’t tell if it was angry or _what_ , but if this was some sort of intimidation tactic, it was working wonders. 

“A room in the inn. They were jus’ cleanin one up for me,” Jesse quickly replied, pulling that out of his ass _somehow_. It was a pretty damn good cover if he said so himself.

“Is that so? Are you sure you are not waiting for a friend?” 

Jesse gulped. “Nah, came on my lonesome, y’see…”

“Are you completely sure?”

Jesse blinked. “Yessiree.” 

The figure-- an omnic surely-- hummed in acknowledgement. 

“You must know, _we_  do not take kindly to trespassers, or liars,” it said after a few moments. 

“I uh- don’t know what your on abou-”

Before he could even finish his response, Jesse heard a loud, terrible creaking of metal from the other side of the vehicle. The car was suddenly jerked to the other side and he nearly tumbled backwards. 

He looked back towards the passenger side of the car, and nearly screamed when he saw a terrifyingly large omnic ripping the door off the car. 

The screeching sound of metal being crushed and destroyed rang through his ears. Sparks were flying and the metal was groaning in agony. Every light in the car went out at once with a worrying sizzling sound. 

“BACKUP PLEASE NOW!” He spoke frantically into the comm, reaching for his gun at his belt and flicking his wrist up to the omnic ripping the car apart. He took six shots, unsure if any of them hit their mark with the jerking of the vehicle and tricky terrain, not to mention it was _dark_. 

He unlocked the car door and grabbed the handle on his side, throwing it open with all of his weight. He knocked the omnic by his window back a few feet, and Jesse took the opportunity to jump out of the car and sprint to where he last saw Amari in the shadows. 

He didn’t glance back as he ran, holding his hat onto his head as he went. His shoes hit the asphalt with booming thuds, echoing through the streets of this relatively small Portuguese neighborhood. Surely the racket was waking citizens by now, or maybe all of them were smart enough to turn their cheek.

Jesse nearly tripped over the curb as he got to the other side of the street, throwing himself into a wall. He took the time to start fumbling ammo into his revolver. 

“Amari,” he called out, perhaps a bit too loudly.

There was no response, which worried him. What if they got her? He didn’t even attempt to help her, didn’t even know it was happening.

He ran down the sidewalk, the exact opposite direction of the omnics ripping their car to shreds. He made it ten feet or so before a hand shot out of an alleyway and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and proceeded to drag him into darkness.

He went to scream, but a hand was slapped over his mouth.

“Hush, Jesse. Are you hurt?”

It was Captain Amari. Jesse let out a breath of relief.

His reply of “No ma’am,” was muffled into her palm. 

She moved her hand away and spun him around to face her. It was nearly pitch black, the streetlights were terrible at illuminating anything. He could just barely make out the shape of her head and body, and could feel her hands on his shoulders. 

“They must’ve known about our plan this whole time, somehow. They- I have no idea _how_. We use secure comm channels and our information is all heavily secured and-”

“I think we can worry ‘bout that a lil’ later. We gotta get outta here,” Jesse cut her off. He apologized quickly after, imagining her disgruntled look up at him. 

Amari hummed. “You are right. I got into contact with Overwatch. Our aircraft was  luckily not too far away. It should be able to pick us up where we landed originally within an hour.”

“So what, we gotta hide all that time?”

“Perhaps we can lose them, though it would not be smart to run straight to our destination and wait. That would risk an ambush.”

“So, what’re we gonna d-”

There were three shots fired, pinging on the walls besides them and pipes jutting out of the wall. Both of them ducked slightly. 

“THERE THEY ARE!”

Jesse and Amari both turned towards the opening of the alleyway, guns raised. Amari’s rifle was very impressive, Jesse had a chance to look at it before they arrived in Portugal. It had some of the latest nanobot technology, according to Captain Amari. It could heal allies and harm enemies, depending on signals they picked up that were programmed beforehand. Amari had attempted to explain it to him, but Jesse was far too simple-minded to even try to comprehend any of what she said. All he knew was that it was ridiculously cool.

Three figures appeared in the alleyway. Jesse shot down two immediately without hesitation, watching sparks fly from their heads. Amari took the last one, three shots to its abdomen leaving it sparking and twitching on the floor.

Amari grabbed his arm and tugged him into a run. Jesse followed in behind her, covering their asses as best as he could until they were out into the open street. Amari took a sharp left, and Jesse followed. 

~~~

 

Jesse slept for the entirety of the journey back to Overwatch HQ. He let Captain Amari do most of the worrying, burying her face in her tablet and speaking to someone on her comm nearly every moment. Jesse was in a blissful sleep for most of the ride, though, and was not sure what exactly she got up to while he was unconscious. 

Once they were off ship, he realized the disgusting stench of sweat was coming from himself and Amari. They had run quite a lot last night, and that paired with nerves caused extra perspiration. Jesse wouldn't be very bothered normally, but walking through the pristine halls of Overwatch and absorbing the judgemental stares from others was a bit uncomfortable. 

He was walking side by side by Amari, immensely in awe of how she walked with her head held so high. Their arms brushed occasionally, a sure difference from their previous trips down the halls when he stood a good foot or so back. 

He wasn't sure if he was breaking some sort of protocol, and attempted to fall back a few steps, only to get chastised by Amari. 

“Keep up, McCree,” she said sternly, though without a hint of bite. 

The halls of Overwatch were still an enigma to Jesse, and it took him quite a while to realize they were not heading back to their quarters, much to his dismay. 

“Where are we goin’ ma’am?” 

“Medbay.” 

“We didn't get hurt, did we?” 

“No,” Amari shook her head. “However, it is your first mission. Doctor Ziegler would like to take a look at you.” 

“But I ain't-”

“Not for physical damage, McCree. She wants to see how you handled it mentally,” Amari explained.

Jesse almost scoffed. He'd handled much worse than smashing a few bots through their heads in his past. He's seen actual massacres, dismembered limbs; in fact, he'd participated in such massacres himself. The thought of being rattled by some gears and screws flying everywhere was amusing.

“It'll take a lot more than _that_  to rattle me,” Jesse chuckled.

“I am aware,” Amari replied. “It is simply how it must be. By now, you must understand how protocols work around here.”

“I do, ma’am. Not to worry,” Jesse nodded. He reached up to fix his hat on his head. 

“This won't be a regular occurrence then?”

“Only if you make it a habit to get seriously injured every mission. Which, if you do, you will get a _very_  stern talking to by multiple people. I advise avoiding it at all costs.” 

“Right-o, Cap’n. Wasn’t plannin’ on it.”

“Good.” 

Amari stopped and turned to him. “The medbay is down this hallway and to the right. If you get lost, ask someone, they will show you. I must go deal with some meetings and debriefings, and multitudes of boring paperwork. Be prepared for someone coming to talk to you about the mission. Be very transparent with them, and make sure you make it /very clear that we did not start the fight.” 

“Of course, ma’am.” 

Amari smiled at him. “Very well. I will be off.”

Jesse watched her go back down the hall and make a sharp left. 

~~~

 

“I told you I ain't injured, Doc.” 

“I know, but sometimes the mind will dissociate from pain, especially in stressful situations. You may be injured somewhere and not aware of it.”

Jesse huffed and nodded. “I feel bad, I smell revoltin’.”

“I've seen, and _smelled_  far worse, Jesse.”

Jesse sat back on that exam table, kicking his legs back and forth and feeling just the slightest bit awkward. Doctor Ziegler had asked him to strip down to his underwear to examine him. He was embarrassed enough about his stature, but now Doctor Ziegler got to look at his sad excuse for a pair of boxers. They were one of three pairs he had from back in Deadlock, old and ratty pieces of cloth that detergent had a hard time cleansing of stink fully. 

Doctor Ziegler didn't seem bothered in the slightest, however, merely doting away and going through what she called a routine checkup. She had taken his blood pressure, noting that it was slightly above average, which she attributed to the stress from the mission. 

She finally finished the physical examination with a sigh. 

“Well, Jesse, you have no physical injuries except for a few scrapes and bruises,” she announced with a smile. “That is very impressive for a mission that went wrong.”

“It didn't really go all that wrong.”

“From what I understand, an omnic of some sort ripped the door off of your vehicle? The one you were sitting in?”

“Well, uh- yeah but- didn't even touch me.”

She sighed, a small smile on her lips. “Very well. Now, I would just like to ask you if anything about this mission was at all unnerving? Anything particularly traumatizing?” 

“Oh, nah, not at all.” 

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Is that so?”

She turned to the counter where a computer system was waiting. She started typing rapidly. 

“Yeah, I mean, nobody got hurt. So, all in all, pretty successful.”

“You had to take down two enemies though, correct?”

“Oh well, yeah, but- nothin’ I hadn't done before,” Jesse shrugged. “They were just omnics anyway."

Doctor Ziegler turned back to him with pursed lips. “And so it doesn't bother you that you took their lives?”

“Well, they were trying to not only kill me, but also Cap’n Amari. They deserved it, in a way.” 

“Nobody deserves death-”

“Some people do, Doc,” Jesse replied sternly, his mouth turned into a slight frown. 

Doctor Ziegler did not seem particularly pleased with his reply, though she did not say anything else on the matter. She turned back to the computer and started typing again. 

“So, if they were humans, would you have felt different?”

“Nah, not really. Don't matter if it's guts or gears flyin’ outta their bodies, it's just a corpse.” 

She stood rigidly at the counter as she typed, silently, as if waiting for him to continue. 

“I mean, it's-” Jesse paused, fumbling. “It ain't like it's anythin’ I hadn't seen before, or done before.” 

Was it not normal to feel indifferent to it, after everything he'd done?

“It ain't the bodies that creep me out, or anythin’, I guess. It's just a body, nothin’ special. Nothin’ I'd considered much, before. I- I am aware that I've probably killed those who didn't deserve it, though,” he mumbled, voice quieter. “It don't matter now though.”

The room fell into silence, save for Doctor Ziegler’s typing. 

After a few moments her fingers paused and she turned. 

“You may get redressed and leave, Jesse.”

Jesse nodded awkwardly and cleared his throat. “I uh- thank you, ma’am.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience I hope you all like this chapter. There's tons of Gabe and Jesse content. Also, hey come talk to me on tumblr @smolcactusgay

“Where are they?”

Gabe rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to groan. He sat up tall in his seat, perfecting his posture purely out of habit. He desperately wanted to slink back into his chair and fall asleep, or possibly yell at the man who was sitting across from him.

He didn’t know  _ why _ they were even in the largest conference room possible. The room itself was nearly as large as Overwatch’s main cafeteria, and the table stretched from one end of the room to the other, leaving very little room to walk around. Small projectors were imbedded in the center of the table, used to present holographic statistics, photos, etc. to everyone no matter where they were sitting. It was definitely unnecessary, especially considering the meeting was only supposed to consist of five people and there were no statistics to present.

Of course,  two of the five people were not there yet, which was why the man across the table from Gabe had been incessantly whining about it for the past half hour. Jack was desperately trying to appease him, apologizing for the wait and attempting to explain to the man what was taking the other two meeting participants so long.

Gabe had a great disliking for the man, and all others similar to him. His name was Jared Jenkins, one of the many tentative “advisors” of Overwatch. They were the few people at the top of the chain that profited off of other’s hard work. They claimed to be leaders, but in reality they were fat, lazy cats who gave very few and mostly selfish orders. They claimed to have a “hands off” approach to leading, and in the process essentially handed the powers down to people like Jack, Ana, and himself. They definitely didn’t “advise” about much, except for ways to cut expenses.

Jared Jenkins was a slimey fella, that was for sure. The man was short and round around the middle, with greying hair and thick bushy eyebrows that rivaled the thickness of Gabe’s moustache. He was like a fat monopoly man minus the elegance elegance and charm.

“I really am sorry, Mr. Jenkins,” Jack apologized. For what, Gabe wasn’t sure.

Jack was dressed in full uniform, stiff stifling overcoat and all. His hair was perfectly slicked up, pretty and blond without a single strand out of place. 

Gabe hadn’t been aware of the meeting until about an hour ago, so he didn’t bother getting dressed up all fancy on the grounds that this was a meeting to discuss important matters. 

He stared boredly at the wall right behind Jack’s head, trying to zone out Jenkins whining.

“This really is a time sensitive matter.”

“There are certain post-mission protocols, sir. Especially in these conditions.”

“What conditions besides the fact that we are dealing with terrorists that will leave us broke and out of jobs?!”

“Well, Captain Amari had been taking a new recruit on his first mission. It was supposed to be a fairly easy mission with very little confrontation. It is necessary for new recruits to get extensive checkups right after their first mi-”

“New recruit? Who? I wasn’t aware that Amari was taking anybody along with her.”

Gabe internally cringed. He glanced at Jack, who made worried eye contact with him. This wasn’t a topic that was ready to be discussed. They tried to silently communicate something, though Gabe wasn’t sure what. Their silent communication consisted of shrugs and open and closing their mouths unrecognizably. Jack turned to Jenkins and opened his mouth to reply.

Gabe cleared his throat. “Agent Jesse McCree. Brand new agent to the system. Highly skilled with a revolver, tragic past. Nothing too interesting. The norm.”

Jenkins raised one bushy eyebrow. “One of yours, hmm Gabriel?”

Gabe frowned deeply. “Commander Reyes,” he corrected. 

“Where’d you pick him up? A semi-legal secret government agency,” Jenkins snorted, completely unaware of how close he was to the truth.

Jack and Gabe shared a concerned glance before chuckling awkwardly.

Gabe was pleased with how Jack had adjusted to the idea of McCree being a part of Blackwatch. It seemed that McCree’s appearance had thrown a wrench in their tentative relationship. Whatever their relationship even was at that point, or had been for the months previous. It seemed they were riding a bit of a high, in friendship terms at the least. 

Gabe was completely fine with that, preferring Jack’s goofy jokes to his terrible nagging. 

“Either way, that is not an excuse for them to be so late to this meeting. It is imperative for us to get as much of an advantage over these people as we can,” Jenkins said with an air of finality.

“I understand, sir,” Jack nodded. “But, Captain Amari and Agent McCree only returned from the mission approximately two hours ago. They are surely exhausted and needed some rest.”

“This matter is time sensitive, Morrison,” (Gabe wanted to spit in the man’s face for his blatant disrespect) ”You should understand that, surely.”

Jack opened his mouth to respond. He looked stressed and vaguely annoyed, despite his attempts to hide his real emotions behind a facade of servitude and compliance. Maybe it was only something Gabe could see in him.

As the first syllable left his lips, the door to the conference room door swooshed open. Standing there was Captain Amari and Jesse McCree, dressed down in vaguely casual Overwatch-branded clothing and worn looks. McCree especially, looked exhausted and very displeased with his current environment. Amari, meanwhile, knew how to fake it, and wore a very pleased and confident smile.

Ana walked in, McCree shuffling in behind her. He made eye contact with Gabe, and Gabe could see his agony. It definitely was not something prompted purely by the mission, since the mission wasn’t gruesome in the least. It was just unexpected, Gabe knew McCree had dealt with far worse.

Ana made direct eye contact with Jenkins, walking around the table to greet him with a smile. She shook his hand amicably. “Good morning, Mr. Jenkins. A pleasure to see you.”

“The same to you, Ana.” 

Gabe could see where her smile was plastic. 

McCree, meanwhile, hovered awkwardly by the door, unsure if he should follow in Ana’s footsteps or not. 

Gabe cleared his throat while the others were distracted, loud enough to get McCree’s attention. He gestured covertly to the seat next to him, and McCree quickly shuffled over and sat besides him.

McCree sighed as he sat down and turned to Gabe, murmuring quietly to him in Spanish. “ _ I feel worse than death _ .”

Gabe raised an eyebrow. “ _ You look terrible _ .”

“ _ Gee, thanks _ ,” McCree scoffed. He straightened his hat on his head. “ _ It isn’t because the mission _ .”

“ _ I figured as much _ ,” Gabe hummed in response. He glanced back at Ana, Jack, and Jenkins, who were still deeply immersed in pleasantries. None of the three looked vaguely pleased and were obviously faking their interest. He wondered how much longer they’d push it.

“ _ It was something Doctor Ziegler said to me _ .”

“ _ Really? She tends to steer away from the emotionally distressing topics _ .”

“ _ Well, it was something she suggested _ .”

Gabe pursed his lips. It's common for the first few post-mission checkups to include a psychological evaluation. He knew that Angela was not particularly /pleased with the environment and people she tended to be working with, or at least their ideals on violence, but he had never heard of her being passive aggressive about her beliefs in any way. 

Gabe leaned in close to McCree’s ear and murmured. “ _ We can discuss later. Let's just get this shit over with so we can get other shit over with _ .” 

McCree laughed and hummed his agreement. 

Gabe turned back towards the other three people in the room. 

“If I may interrupt,” he interjected amicably, gaining the attention of the three. “We should start this  _ very _ time sensitive meeting now, shouldn't we?” 

Jenkins’ eyes widened. He straightened up a bit.

“Oh yes, of course.” He cleared his throat and turned his attention to McCree. Jenkins blinked, eyes dragging over McCree’s form, seemingly unsure of where to start. 

“Jenkins, this is Agent Jesse McCree. A very new, promising recruit,” Ana introduced, clearly wanting to get the ball rolling. “I've been personally overseeing his weapon training. He is one of the best I have seen for how young he is.” 

McCree smiled and tipped his hat to Jenkins, slathering on the charm.

“Very nice t’meet ya sir,” McCree greeted. 

Jenkins blinked. “Yes. Ah, same to you. Pardon me, I just- I did not think that er-  _ cowboys _ existed-”

“Oh. O’course sir,” McCree chuckled deeply. Gabe could hear a blatant exaggeration in his accent. “Cowboys are a very important contribution t’culture down south.” 

“Down south?”

“New Mexico, sir. Sandwiched ‘tween Texas and Arizona.”

Jenkins nodded. “Oh, yes of course.” 

Gabe rolled his eyes. As if this man  _ actually _ had any clue about what McCree was talking about. Even if he did, Gabe was fairly sure Jenkins was too distracted by the accent and the hat to focus properly. 

Gabe glanced across the table at Ana and Jack. Ana seemed to be biting her lip in amusement, clearly catching on to the subtle joke McCree was playing. Jack just looked completely confused. 

“Shall we, uh, get on with it,” Jack interrupted, clearly done with the antics. 

“Right, yes,” Jenkins nodded. 

For a man who was so bothered by lateness just moments ago, he seemed oddly prone to getting distracted. 

“I would like the two of you to describe in as much detail as you can what you experienced. I will be recording for reviewing purposes later.” 

“Why do you have to record it,” Gabe asked. “Surely we don't want evidence available of us discussing these matters. What happened to being discrete?”

“I assure you, nobody else will hear this other than myself and my fellow co-advisors,” Jenkins replied, looking at Gabe as if he was insane. 

Gabe internally rolled his eyes at that. Jenkins insinuating that he and the other “advisors” of Overwatch were trustworthy by any means was ridiculous. 

Jenkins cleared his throat and turned to McCree. “So, start from the moment you arrived. Did you observe anything peculiar?”

  
~~~

 

The hour long meeting turned out to be just as boring and repetitive as Gabe anticipated. He wasn’t sure how many times Jenkin asked the same damn questions, nor was he sure about how many times McCree and Ana gave their exact same original reply with a tight smile. If _he_  was annoyed, he could only imagine how they felt.

The meeting had wound down to Jenkins discussing budget concerns and certain media portrayals with Ana and Jack. Gabe had no interest in it, knowing that the only reason Jenkins was asking was because it directly affected  _ his _ paycheck.

Gabe had slouched just barely back in his chair, staring blankly at the three in front of him and just barely listening. Budgets were incredibly boring.

Gabe glanced over at McCree, who was nearly asleep in his chair. His hat was tipped over his eyes and he hadn’t moved a muscle in the last twenty minutes. 

Gabe sighed and nudged him, leaning closer to speak quietly to him.

“ _ Do you want to leave _ ?”

McCree groaned and sighed. “ _ Yes _ .”

Gabe slid his chair back and stood up. He cleared his throat to gain the attention of the other three. Apparently Jack and Jenkins were just too caught up in the budget conversation, though, because only Ana looked over at him.

“We’re leaving.”

“Alright,” Ana nodded. She looked to McCree. “I expect to see you in the training room at our normal time.”

“What? I still gotta do that,” McCree asked.

“Perhaps an hour earlier?”

“No, ma’am. I’ll be there,” McCree assured her. He stood as well, straightening out his shirt with a sigh.

Ana smiled, looking vaguely amused. “Good. I will see the both of you later, then.”

 

~~~

 

It apparently took McCree five minutes to realize that they were not heading back to the Blackwatch Wing.

“ _ Where are we going, boss _ ?” 

Gabe huffed out a laugh. “ _ Shouldn’t you be more observant _ ?”

“ _ I don’t see why I have to be observant now, when we are not in any danger. _ ”

“ _ You never know, though, do you kid? One moment everything is fine, the next, you are dead _ ,” Gabe replied with a bit of a sinister grin. He tilted his head to look at McCree, who seemed to be pondering over his statement.

“ _ I thought you would’ve been very familiar with this concept, cowboy _ .”

McCree shrugged. “ _ Guess I’ve let my guard down since I’ve been here _ ,” he murmured quietly to himself. 

“ _ You don’t have to talk quietly. Nobody can understand you, I assure you _ ,” Gabe said. “ _ You can talk as loud as you want, and all these idiots that learned French over Spanish won’t have a clue _ .”

McCree blinked. “ _ Damn, didn’t even realize we weren’t speaking English. _ ”

Gabe barked out a laugh, one loud enough to make two of the agents that were loitering about the hallways jump in fright. Their wide eyes locked onto Gabe form and looked almost  _ scared  _ momentarily, before they spotted McCree (and most likely his cowboy hat) and got confused.

“ _ Did you speak a lot of Spanish in Deadlock _ ?”

McCree pursed his lips. Gabe saw just a hint of regret forming on McCree’s brow, before it was washed away with his reply. “ _ Not really. Boss- or- well, the gang leader couldn’t speak it, and refused to learn. Even though half of the members of Deadlock were Mexican, we weren’t allowed to. If we were caught, they’d assume we were planning a takedown and have us killed. _ ”

Gabe cringed. “ _ That’s excessive. _ ”

McCree chuckled sadly. “ _ Yeah, it is _ .” 

The kid was suddenly sporting a faraway look, as if he was not quite present besides Gabe. His eyes were foggy, and his mouth was pressed into a thin line that was just barely tilted into a frown. 

“ _ Is it a tough subject _ ?”

McCree nodded in reply. 

Gabe opened his mouth to speak again, but McCree interrupted him. “ _ Didn’t we pass your office two turns ago _ ?”

Gabe stopped and turned around to look back down the hallway. “Shit. Yeah.”

McCree chuckled. “See, I ain’t the only one that still gets lost ‘round here,” he teased. Gabe could hear his accent far better when McCree was speaking English.

Gabe rolled his eyes and had half the mind to shove the kid against the wall. Jokingly, of course, with no malicious intent at all. Just a way to show McCree that he was being a dick through physical means.

Gabe didn’t reply to his taunt and instead strode back down the hallway in the opposite direction. He heard McCree hasten his pace to keep up. 

The two of them didn’t speak as they amended their path. Gabe resisted the urge to chat, and instead listened intently to the murmurs of agents around them. 

He had picked up on a heightened amount of chatter when he returned to base, which he learned was attributed to the fact that rumors about Ana and McCree’s run in with omnics had been leaked. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew that it wasn’t uncommon for higher-ranking officers to participate in the gossip. One little tip off could set the entirety of Overwatch ablaze in rumor. It was infinitely amusing, and also a bit worrying.

If Gabe were to compare the situation to teenagers in high school, it made him laugh. However, the implications of  _ every _ agent knowing this information meant that eventually the media would get ahold of the story. 

Gabe pressed his thumb to the scanner lock once they arrived in his office. The door slid open to reveal his pristine office, just as he left it. It was void of most personal memorabilia. He was more inclined to keep his private life private, and his photographs and precious memories locked safely away in his quarters where he did not tend to hold meetings. In fact, he was fairly sure the last person to enter his quarters was Jack… and that was months ago after a particularly heated argument… and then particularly heated sex. 

Gabe stepped in and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn. He walked around the desk and sat down in his wonderfully comfy chair, shifting into the cushion with a groan of pleasure. 

McCree watched him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk hanging off his lips. The cowboy sat down in the chair opposite of him, shifting around in an effort to get comfy. He would never be able to, since Gabe purchased the chairs with the discomfort of the user in mind. He hoped that it would psychologically trick the person into cutting meetings short because their ass fell asleep.

“Alright, McCree. I guess that since you are officially an adult, I am required to make you a member of Blackwatch,” Gabe sighed, faking boredom and disinterest. 

McCree beamed. “Yeah, yeah. Such a shame, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, now I gotta worry about your stupid ass getting killed on the battlefield,” Gabe said, with  an edge of seriousness. 

Gabe slid his chair back and opened one of the filing cabinets that were built into his desk. He had already made up the paperwork a few weeks ago, eager to welcome McCree into his team and get him started on missions. He had been momentarily worried that McCree wouldn’t be eligible by the time he was 18, but it turns out that the kid filled out nicely.

There was a deep blue folder that he had shoved the documents in, with a tab labeled “McCree” tacked onto the top. He extracted the folder and set it out on the desk, then closed the drawer and moved to turn on his computer. 

“There’s some paperwork you gotta read and sign, agree to some contracts that I /highly recommend you read so you can’t get screwed over. I can take your picture here and get your ID printed for you, just so that we don’t have to go through the efforts of explaining it to twenty low-ranking office workers,” Gabe explained with a sigh. 

He pulled two packets of paper from the folder and handed them over to McCree. McCree took them and started scanning the pages before him.

“If you agree to the contract, you will be working for  _ me _ , not Overwatch. Understand? They can’t boss you around, and if any of them try, let me know. The only ones I’d recommend listening to is Amari and Morrison. I’m sure you can figure out why.”

“Amari is scary as hell and Morrison will give you shit if I don’t follow his orders,” McCree asked with a raised eyebrow.

Gabe laughed sharply. “Yes, exactly.” 

A small pleased smile grew on McCree’s lips. 

At this point, the computer had already come to life. The slightly transparent screen flickered on, displaying the Overwatch logo briefly before redirecting towards Gabe’s computer. There was no password prompt, but Gabe quickly typed in a memorized 10 digit code that caused the screen to flicker off, then on again. This time, its reappearance was accompanied by a different logo being displayed. A ram’s skull,surrounded by a red and white circle. It was ominous, and from Gabe’s point of view, very badass.

He spared a brief glance towards McCree, whose eyes were glued to the logo on screen. 

“Looks cool, yeah?”

“Is that Blackwatch’s logo?”

“Indeed.”

“So, that’s why it’s printed on so many people’s shirts back at the wing?”

“Yep,” Gabe nodded. 

“Why didn’t I get any o’ that? Why’d I get stuck with shitty, oversized Overwatch clothes?”

“You weren’t a part of Blackwatch yet,” Gabe shrugged. “For all I knew, you coulda turned on me halfway through the process. Letting you get  _ that _ close would’ve been a stupid idea.”

McCree raised an eyebrow. “But I already got like, two friends in Blackwatch? Ain’t it a stupid idea all together to have me hangin’ ‘round them?”

“No, because none of them are idiots. I trust them not to spill Blackwatch secrets to some kid,” Gabe replied. “It wasn’t as if they didn’t know you were coming, McCree. I told them to tone down their gossiping until you were official.”

McCree’s brow was furrowed deeply. “Shit, I been lied to this whole time?”

Gabe chuckled. He was still typing away on his computer, looking for specific files. “No, no. We just, heavily censored ourselves while you were around.” 

McCree was sporting a look that was almost cartoonish. He looked so utterly betrayed and perplexed, Gabe struggled to refrain from laughing. 

“Don’t worry, kid. Now, you’re a rookie. So, you get a little more trust from all of us. And a whole lot more teasing.” 

He finally found what he was searching for. He hid the names and information about Blackwatch in a maze of files and folders that were all locked and highly secure. Searching through it all would lead to a picture of a flower, which, upon clicking on the third petal, would reveal a database with all of the information on Blackwatch.

A glance up at McCree confirmed that the kid was in awe.

“Hey, stop snooping. Read your papers and sign them.”

“Yessir,” McCree muttered. He tore his eyes away from the screen and looked down at the papers. A sour look spread over his face.

“If you need help understanding any of it, tell me.”

“I ain't that stupid.”

Five minutes later, McCree was clearing his throat. Gabe looked up at him, and found that the kid looked like a lost puppy. 

“Uh, what's this mean right here?” He put his finger on a sentence and held it up to Gabe. 

Gabe scanned over the words. “It means that you will live here and we will provide food, but you will be getting a monthly paycheck for your services.”

McCree pursed his lips and pulled the papers back to his side of the desk. 

“How much will I get paid?”

“Should be stated in the next paragraph.”

“Oh, right.”

Silence once again fell over the office. It gave Gabe enough time to focus on the task at hand, which was essentially setting up McCree’s profile in the system and confirming it. He did this, along with some minor hacking so that he could create McCree a viable ID in a digital and physical form. 

“Didn't realize you could jus’ do that from yer office.” 

“Technically, I shouldn't be able to. But, Morrison and I agreed it was for the best.”

“Blackwatch is _really_  that secret, huh,” McCree questioned.

“Indeed,” Gabe nodded. “When we're done with this, I'll be sending you down to our gear specialists. They'll hook you up with armor and mission uniforms, and if you ask nicely, they'll give you some extra casual clothing that will last you until you're able to buy your own.” 

“I get my own costume?”

“It's not a costume,” Gabe huffed. “It's special gear that will hide your heat signature, monitor your vitals, and protect your soft spots. Remember what we were wearing when we picked your ass up from Deadlock Gorge?”

McCree hummed to himself and glanced off to the side, as if he was remembering.

“Yeah, I do. Black on black on black.”

“Exactly.”

“That's borin’ as shit.”

“If you wanted fancy costumes, you should've applied for Overwatch instead of getting caught up in a gang,” Gabe sighed. A headache was forming just behind his eyes, and he could feel his patience waning. 

He didn’t like looking at the grainy, translucent computer screen. When he was very young, nothing was projected or holographed as it was nowadays. Most people were in awe of it, but it always gave him a headache when he looked at it for too long. Jack had bought him a pair of glasses that was supposed to adjust the illumination the projections gave off, but Gabe thought they looked stupid and never wore them in the presence of others. He mostly used them in his quarters, when he was reading a book before bed.

“Are you done reading and signing? I have to take your fingerprints and your picture.” 

McCree looked up at Gabe sheepishly. “Ya didn't give me a pen.” 

Gabe blinked, and resisted to urge to groan out loud. He opened one of his drawers with just a bit of aggression, and tossed a pen over. 

McCree thanked him quietly, and apparently had the nerve to smile innocently. He quickly signed a few of the pages within the packets of documents, biting his lip in concentration as he did so. 

When he was finished, he dropped the pen on the desk and stacked the packets neatly, before handing them over. Gabe took them and set them to the side. 

“Alright, sit there. Look up at this glowing circle right here,” Gabe instructed, and pointed to a small circle at the top of his monitor.

“Do I smile?”

“Not if you want people to take you seriously,” Gabe sighed. “You ready?”

McCree cleared his throat and looked up at the camera. “Yessir.” 

Gabe clicked a button on his keyboard, and the circle flashed briefly. The picture that showed up on his screen was that of Jesse McCree, hat and all. You could practically see the southern culture dripping off of him. 

“You should’ve taken the hat off,” Gabe bit out. He was trying not to focus on how /young McCree looked. Then again, Gabe was eighteen when he joined the military, and that was without years without any family and plenty of gang-experience. 

“You wan’ me t’take it again?”

“Too late. You’ll take a new one when you are no longer a new agent,” Gabe replied. He clicked on the button to print out the ID, and leaned back in his seat. He opened one of his very bottom drawers and pulled out a thin sheet of metal, a cord hanging off the bottom. He plugged it in and pressed a few buttons on the top, waiting for the blue light in the corner to turn on. He placed it down carefully on the desk and slid it towards McCree.

“Don’t touch that yet.”

McCree, whose hands had already been reaching for the device, quickly dropped them in his lap with a small frown.

Gabe went to the agent information tab, and went to input McCree’s. One of the requirements were fingerprints, so that he could have access to all the areas his rank allowed him to.

“Okay, put your thumb on it and hold it there until I say so,” Gabe told him.

McCree pressed his thumb onto the metal, and almost jumped when a faint blue line started passing back and forth over the surface.

“What’s it doin’?”

“Scanning your fingerprints,” Gabe said. The computer dinged. “Okay, next finger.”

The action was repeated ten times. 

“So, I won’t need someone else to get me into the Blackwatch Wing now?”

Gabe raised an eyebrow. “You should’ve had access.”

“Nah, the couple times comin’ back from yer office or Amari’s I had to message Andersson.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“You were always busy. Didn’t wanna bother ya,” McCree shrugged. “When we talked it was cuz I got the shit beat outta me or I did somethin’ wrong.”

“That’s not true,” Gabe shook his head. “I’ve eaten every meal right across from you for the past month unless I was on mission.”

McCree looked a bit flustered. “I was kinda embarrassed t’say anythin’. Only Andersson knew, and she gave me hell ‘bout it too.”

“I’ll be sure to make sure you have access to that,” Gabe murmured. “Sorry, kid.”

“It’s fine,” McCree shrugged. “Hey, wait- ya can’t call me that anymore!”

Gabe scoffed. “Yes I can. I’m about twenty years older than you, McCree.”

“Damn, really? Ya don’t look it,” McCree huffed. Gabe was fairly sure he meant to make the comment under his breath, as it looked as if the words took McCree by surprise just as they took Gabe. 

He flushed bright red immediately, despite the fact that McCree attempted to save his floundering ass.He gave Gabe one of the most shit-eating grins he had ever seen in his life.

“Ya look ‘bout seventy, actually. I’m surprised ya ain’t goin’ gray, yet, bossman.”

Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “I’m gonna let that go since you essentially just called me hot.”

McCree spluttered. “I-I did not! I said ya looked young!”

 

~~~

 

Breakfast the following morning had been loud and cheery. It seemed that soccer season, or “football” season (according to those who weren’t Americans, which was a majority of Blackwatch), had begun.

If there was one thing that Blackwatch agents loved the most, it would be soccer. They would get incredibly aggressive, and most matches lead to tears or screaming. It was both terrifying, and hilarious. 

Gabe was sipping at his third cup of coffee. He’d finish his breakfast of french toast and bacon long ago. He was finding the taunts and heckles thrown across the table at increasing volume infinitely amusing.

McCree was sitting across from him, and Gabe couldn’t decipher the mix of emotions on his face.

“McCree,” Gabe had to shout from across the table. 

McCree glanced up at him. “ _ What is this? _ ” His question was filled with the sound of confusion and horror.

As he asked it, a literal knife was thrown from across the table, smoothly sailing and landing with a thud in the wall just behind Marsh’s head. Marsh, who was generally a gossip and got riled up far too easily, immediately stood. He started screaming across the table at whoever had thrown it.

McCree’s eyes had gone comically wide. 

“ _ I think I’m gonna call it early today, McCree _ ,” Gabe sighed.

“ _ What? Didn’t hear you _ .”

“ _ I think I’m gonna call it early, _ ” Gabe repeated, using a far louder voice. “ _ Training starts in a few minutes anyway. Whoever is late is getting punished. _ ”

“ _ Shouldn’t you tell them that _ ?”

“ _ No, _ ” Gabe laughed. “ _ They already know; they aren’t idiots _ .”

“ _ I feel like they’d be a bit offended if they could hear what you are saying, _ ” McCree replied, a grin spreading across his face. His smile was overly bright and sweet, even when he was being a smug little shit. 

“ _ I’ve never given much of a fuck if these assholes hear me, _ ” Gabe said with a shrug. He smirked at McCree. “ _ I’m happy you know how to speak Spanish, kid. It gives you an advantage already. _ ”

“ _ How so? _ ”

“ _ We can say whatever we want and most of these people can’t understand it. Or if they can, they understand very little. You know how much shit I’ve said about Morrison that he doesn’t even know about because he decided he should learn French and German, _ ” Gabe grinned. He knew that if Jack had heard some of the shit he’d said out of anger or frustration, he might not even be in the position that he was in currently. The thought of it was infinitely amusing.

“ _ So, what? You are saying I should just talk shit on people? _ ”

“ _ No, of course not _ ,” Gabe sighed. He pushed his chair back from the table suddenly and stood. 

Nobody had even looked up at him as he did so, too engrossed in excited shouting and angry arguing about the outcome of the soccer games. He gestured for McCree to do the same.

“ _ You finished? Let’s go _ .”

McCree’s plate had been practically licked clean three separate times in the past hour. Gabe figured he was going through a growth spurt, and considering he’d been malnourished all this time, having proper food in him was allowing his body to rapidly catch up to where he should be. Doctor Ziegler estimated that he would be at least six feet tall, but most likely even taller.

 

~~~

 

The rest of the week was surprisingly bland. There was a sudden lull in major missions, and for no particular reason other than laziness and faith in his agents, Gabe did not leave base frequently. It was both relaxing and suffocating. 

Gabe was able to catch up on paperwork.If he was not training with Blackwatch or participating in breakfast, he was in his office. He woke up with his face pressed into the cool surface of his desk more than once, his watch’s alarm blaring and the morning sun shining through his office window. 

In that respect, stress was alleviated and  he could stop worrying about any paperwork he needed to do. He didn’t worry about it often, but he knew of the frightening amount that had been piling up due to his busy schedule. It wasn’t necessarily his fault that he had been sent on mission after mission, though, and that he had been awfully preoccupied with a new agent.

The stifling feeling of being inside constantly only caught up to him near the end of the week. He always felt tired, but a heavy dreariness had started to rest heavily on his shoulders. It was hard to stifle yawns and ignore the bags under his eyes, and the feeling of exhaustion was only amplified by the environment he was stuck in. The lack of fresh air and real sunlight had made him particularly irritable, to the point that Jack had even left him alone about missing mandatory meetings (the meetings were normally never important though, and Gabe couldn’t bring himself to care). 

Heavy workouts and training could only alleviate the cagey feeling so much. He had perhaps worked his agents a bit too hard, nearly doubling certain exercises and even extending the training time from two hours to three. 

He had been meeting with McCree every night as well, teaching him the basics of hand-to-hand combat and self defense. He’d even given a few offensive pointers, such as where to move and how to throw his punches.

McCree was improving steadily, and quickly got the hang of the fighting style that Gabe had introduced him to. It was quick and tricky, and needed a sort of finesse that he knew that McCree could get the hang of if he tried hard enough. McCree  _ did _ try hard enough, to the point where he showed up early to their training sessions with an eager grin on his face. Gabe thought it was good that he was motivated, though he wasn’t completely sure /what he was so motivated by. Gabe knew that self-preservation was a very good motivator, as were survival skills, but he had never seen an agent smile and act so easy to please while they threw punches and attempted to get the best of him.

And yet, neither physical outlet was giving him any reprieve from the stuffy feeling of being indoors too long. 

It was a Friday night when he got a knock on his door, his officw door. It was only peculiar because he had no meetings scheduled, it was barely seven o’ clock, and nobody had notified him via email or messaging that they were coming to speak to him. Immediately, grains of annoyance were piling up in the back of his head.

He had been halfway through a mission report that had been completed and turned into him yesterday. He had full trust in his agents that they could complete fairly complicated missions on their own, and they had yet to disappoint. The latest mission had been a great success. It required four agents and an initial aspect of stealth, until they were inside the warehouse and obtained the information that was needed, that is.

Their target had been a fairly small warehouse right on the boarder of Germany, which was rumored to hold some incriminating information on a small group of terrorists that had yet to become a public concern. The U.N. refused to acknowledge any reports of terrorism until there was sufficient evidence that it was a repeated offense completed by the same group for a common purpose: to invoke terror on the public.

The mission was simple - infiltrate the warehouse, hack the servers, download the information onto a USB, and escape. The mission went as planned, and his agents only suffered a few scrapes and bruises. The information was currently being analyzed and decrypted, but it looked promising.

Gabe was _ particularly _ interested in said mission, because it had been Agent McCree’s very first  _ official _ Blackwatch mission. According to Agent Huber, who had been put in charge of the operation, McCree had proved to be an incredible asset to the team. Agent Huber and McCree had fought side by side, providing a sufficient distraction while the information was obtained and safely transported out of the warehouse. They had taken down a great number of enemies, and on numerous occasions prevent the USB from getting into the wrong hands.

Gabe could only feel prideful. He knew Ana had received the report as well, and that she was probably itching to congratulate McCree on his first successful mission. She had done a majority of his weapon training, after all, and had taken him through his first mission.

Gabe glanced up indignantly at the door. He pressed a button on the side of his desk, and the door opened to reveal and mischievous-looking Andersson and McCree. The two of them were dressed in casual clothing, sporting grins and giggling amongst themselves. 

Gabe raised an eyebrow at the slightly too-large flannel McCree was sporting. It was checkered red and black, and hung off his frame in a way that he assumed must be stylish. Andersson, meanwhile, was dressed in something that he expected from her- a tight-fitting black tank-top.

“Hey, Commander. Whatcha up to,” Andersson asked. She waltzed into the office with an air of confidence that was just a  _ bit _ too strong to be completely sober. Her accent was far thicker when she was drunk.

“Work,” Gabe replied simply. He raised an eyebrow at McCree, who shuffled in behind Andersson with a shit-eating grin on his lips. He remained quiet, though. Suspicious.

Andersson walked over and leaned down to rest her elbows on his desk, effectively becoming face-level with him. From where she stood, Gabe could smell the faint stench of alcohol. He glanced up at McCree once again, a silent question of “why” apparent on his face. McCree did not answer, however.

“Listen, we know you’ve been stuck inside your shitty office all week,” Andersson started, her words so matter-a-fact that Gabe was more amused than upset at her insubordination. “And… cowboy, over here,” she paused and turned to gesture lazily to McCree, who waved and smiled at Gabe. “Hasn’t been outta base yet. And y’know, there are some poppin’ bars out in the city. We were gonna take cowboy out for a night on the town, and wanted to know if you would like to come and escape this hellhole.”

Gabe pursed his lips. “Poppin’?”

“Do you wanna come or not, Commander,” Andersson asked him again with just a tad bit of impatience laced in her tone.

Gabe glanced back at McCree, who looked to be stifling laughs in his hand. His face was tinged pink from his breathless laughter. 

“How much has she had to drink, McCree?”

“At least half a bottle of whiskey,” McCree chuckled. “This was when she got the brilliant idea. Marsh, Marnie, and Napoleon said they would come too.”

Gabe nodded. He shifted his head to the side, considering. “When are you planning to leave?”

“‘Bout ten minutes, unless you wanted t’come. Then we’ll wait up for ya to get ready,” McCree replied. 

Gabe hummed and leaned back in his chair. He looked back to Andersson, whose smile had grown far too complacent for liking. She looked as if she knew something that he didn’t want her to know, but he had no idea what this “something” was.

“I’ll go,” Gabe decided after a minute of deliberation. “Only for a bit, though. Just to make sure you all don’t get into trouble.”

Andersson scoffed. “Oh, please. We can all handle our drinks, Commander.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. Do you recall Huber’s ‘birthday extravaganza’ last year, Andersson?” Gabe had used air quotes when he spoke the words “birthday extravaganza.” His mention of this event had Andersson’s eyes wide.

“Good point,” she said with a sigh. There was a moment where she was frozen in place, her gaze stuck to the desk, before she suddenly stood up straight. “Alright! We’ll meet you out in the parking lot in thirty!”

She turned on her heel and marched away, her short dark hair shifting with her movements. McCree chuckled a bit and gave one last wave to Gabe, before exiting out his office door. Once the door was shut, Gabe sighed.

 

~~~

 

The night turned out to be far calmer than Gabe had expected. He had been mentally preparing himself on the drive over, sitting in the backseat of the borrowed car and not-quite-listening to the excited conversations of his agents.

The city streets raced by the window. Occasionally he’d hear the quiet hum of another vehicle passing by, but once it was past the noise practically dissipated into nothingness.

The car was completely packed to the brim, with four people squished into the back that was only intended for three. They didn’t seem bothered, and Gabe was perfectly happy with the seat he got to keep to himself up front.

“Cowboy, you’re gonna  _ love _ this place. Their burgers are the best things in existence!”

“Why have y’all insisted on tellin’ me that four times already?”

“Because it’s true!”

The bar itself was nice, one that Gabe had recalled attending numerous times over the years. It’s decor featured nothing special, but the food and drinks were great. 

It turns out that a “night on the town” was just a bunch of drunk fucks sitting at a bar telling stupid stories and getting misty-eyed due to just about everything.

It was nice,  _ relaxing _ , and the fresh environment proved to be what Gabe’s body and mind had been missing for the past week. Gabe only had a couple drinks, keeping himself just at the edge of tipsy. He didn’t like getting  _ too  _ inebriated out in the open.

The party left fairly early in the evening, and arrived back at base before midnight even struck. 

For whatever reason, the too-clean air of Overwatch Headquarters seemed far less stifling. The halls were mostly quiet as they walked back to their respective destinations.

Gabe didn’t provide any excuse when he broke off from the group a few turns too early, and none of them asked or bothered to follow him. 

Gabe found himself wandering the halls, his feet were moving on their own accord and for whatever reason his mind was begging him to go up to the roof.

Ten minutes later, that’s where he was. His sleeves were pushed up past his elbows, his bare forearms folded over the ice cold railguard. His gaze was locked on the sky, searching for the clouds that were hiding in the darkness.

Eventually he was reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his hoodie pocket, and that’s when he heard the door to the roof slowly open, then close. Then he heard the shuffling of footsteps, loud and firm and hesitantly approaching.

He brought the cigarette up to his lips and let it rest there as he put the pack away. He slipped his fingers into his back pocket in search of his lighter. 

Gabe glanced back, just enough to see the someone’s feet and a long shadow stretching across the rooftop. The legs were familiar, long and skinny and covered in just slightly saggy denim. The boots were too, though they were new additions to his persona, something that he’d come across recently.

“Fancy meetin’ you here.”

Gabriel couldn’t help but grin around his cigarette. “Is it?”

The footsteps approached, this time with far more confidence. Gabe felt a presence next to him, and glanced over to confirm what he already knew. 

McCree leaned forward against the railguard with a sigh. He tilted his head downwards to look at the streets below, as opposed to the sky.

Gabe’s fingers finally closed around the lighter, and he brought it to the tip of his cigarette. Click. A flame erupted from the tip of the lighter, and the flames eagerly lapped at the butt of his cigarette.

“The others thought you were headin’ off back to yer office to do more paperwork,” McCree murmured. His voice was just slightly muffled, since he was facing away. “I knew you’d be here, though.”

“Did you, now? Impressive,” Gabe scoffed. He dropped the lighter back into his pocket. He took a deep breath, the bitter smoke filling his throat and lungs. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, and released his breath with  a deep sigh.

“It ain’t,” McCree shook his head. “I jus’ had a feelin’.”

“It’s good that you can hear my sarcasm now,” Gabe said. “That means I can joke around with you twice as often.” 

McCree chuckled. “You ain’t already been doin’ that? I coulda sworn…”

Gabe took another drag. He felt the last bits of tension ease from his joints. 

“So, how was your last mission?”

McCree glanced back at him then, beaming.

“Fantastic. You shoulda seen me, me an’ Huber. We were beatin’ up bad guys left an’ right. We really did a number on ‘em,” he said excitedly. He wasn’t bragging, Gabe knew that, but he knew Jesse was eager to please and he knew that he had already excitedly said the same exact thing to Ana, in hopes of some sort of praise.

“I read the report,” Gabe said. “Impressive indeed.”

McCree raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Gabe hesitated, he took another drag of his cigarette. Deadly smoke floated from his lips. He didn’t quite know how he should reply to McCree. Would it be better to praise the kid, give him what he wants? Or should he lower his expectations?

“Yeah,” Gabe finally replied. He smiled back at McCree. “It’d take at least four Overwatch agents to do what you and Huber did. I’m impressed.”

McCree’s smile grew. “Thank ya, sir. Y’know, when they got close, I used those maneuvers you’da taught me before, y’know?”

“So my training  _ did _ come in handy, despite your nagging about teaching you how to fight offensively,” Gabe hummed. He continued, sarcasm lacing his tone,”It’s almost as if, I know what I’m talking about…”

McCree laughed. “Nah, sir. I never doubted you ever, when you were trainin’ me.”

Gabe’s eyebrows furrowed. “Never?”

McCree shook his head. “Nope. Never.”

Gabe hummed. He took another drag of his cigarette, then with one last considering look passed it over to McCree. 

McCree didn’t reach out at first to grab it, his eyes shifting between the cigarette and Gabe, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to take it. Eventually, he did, and slowly brought it to his lips.

McCree looked back out over the building, and took a deep breath. Gabe watched the smoke from his lips rise into the night sky.

“I gotta question.”

“Yes?”

McCree hesitated, then spoke. 

“Bad people-- y’know, like the omnics that attacked me an’ Cap’n Amari, or the guys back in Deadlock… they deserve to die, don’t they? Ain’t it only fair?”

Gabe’s eyes widened. That… wasn’t what he expected. Silence lingered. The sound of an airplane flying overhead broke the silence momentarily. The two men looked up at the sky, watched the blinking lights come and depart with a gust of wind.

“It isn’t that simple,” Gabe said finally. “By your definition, you’d be one of those people that deserves death, McCree.”

McCree swallowed. “Is it bad that I ain’t all that bothered by death?”

“I would be concerned if you weren’t, but I know you are,” Gabe replied. “Taking someone’s life is the shit that doesn’t bother you during the day, when your brain tells you that you did the right thing. At night though, your subconscious says differently. It haunts you in your nightmares.”

“Is it bad that I think some people _deserve_ death?”

“Some people  _ do _ deserve death, McCree. That’s something everyone can agree on,” Gabe replied. “But that’s not really what you’re thinking. You don’t know what you’re thinking yet. That’s why all that stupid shit comes out of your mouth on the daily basis.”

McCree nodded. He brought the cigarette to his lips again, and did not speak for the rest of the night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how late this chapter is. I've been super busy AND have had major writer's block, hence why this chapter is kind of jumbled and all over the place? And I wrote most of it AND edited it mostly last night when I should've been asleep so most likely there are various mistakes. EIthER WAy HERe It IS.

The long summer days turned to slow moving autumn. The wind got nippier and the clouds got thicker. Leaves of trees turned a deep red, then orange and yellow and so on. Jesse wasn’t quite prepared for the amount of rain there would be. He thought it was strange how much it rained during the summer in Europe, but fall turned out to bring plenty of showers as well.

Everything was strange to Jesse now, sort of like a dream. He wasn’t quite sure if this was really him, or if some magic spell was cast that changed everything. 

He had a new feeling of independence rising up inside of him, a realization that he had control over his actions. His first paycheck was liberating, despite the fact that he refused to spend even a bit of it initially. As the weather got chilly, he stuck with his ratty old clothes that he had been given, too afraid of spending this newfound independence.

He didn’t think he’d need to spend it on anything anyway. Before this, he rarely needed money for anything. Maybe for a pack of cigarettes, but usually he could just steal a pack or two of those from a gas station without an issue. 

Overwatch was feeding him, giving him a nice warm bed to sleep in. He didn’t see a reason to spend the money, so at first, he decided against it.

However, the chill of October creeped in fairly quickly. Jesse didn’t realize how fast the days went when he had something to do. He had a routine as a Blackwatch agent. He would wake up, train, eat breakfast, train, shower, hang out, train again, and then go to bed. It was repetitive, sure, but it was far better than staring at miles and miles upon red rocks and dirt back at Deadlock Gorge.

Distractions kept his mind from wandering, except for at night, which was sort of a God send. He hadn’t realized how nice it was to have a reprieve from the haunting memories of all of his regrets and mistakes. When he was training, or talking to other people that didn’t want to kill him, he found that Deadlock seemed miles and miles away.

When October arrived, it arrived with a chill unlike any Jesse had ever felt. The desert got cold at night, sure, but it was never cold  _ and  _ wet and perhaps that was why it was so alarming. He got a terrible case of the sniffles, and went about two weeks before deciding that he needed clothing that was a bit more protective than tanktops and thin t-shirts.

It was a Saturday when he asked Andersson if she would like to go shopping with him. They were in between missions. Jesse had just gotten back from a raid in Spain, and Andersson had returned from an escort in Brazil.

She beamed when he asked. 

“Finally going to spend all that cash you got, eh?”

“It’s too fuckin’ freezin’ not to,” Jesse shrugged. “I don’t understand how you ain’t wearin’ a jacket right now.”

They had gotten lunch from some cafe a few blocks away from Headquarters. The sun was struggling to shine through thick grey clouds, and Jesse felt chilled to the bone.

“It rarely gets over 30 here,” Andersson shrugged. She had gotten her hair cut recently, right up to her chin. It was symmetrical and sharp, and it matched perfectly with her piercing glare and sharp smile. 

“What’s that in Fahrenheit?”

“About 90. But, like I said, it’s rare. It happens once or twice in the summer, then never again,” she shrugged. “You gotta get used to this weather, cowboy. You never know where you’re gonna be sent on missions.”

“I was born and bred in the Southern United States an’ it rarely got under 70, so fuck off.”

“You get so defensive,” Andersson teased. She glanced over at him with a smug smile. 

Jesse just grumbled to himself and declined to speak further. 

Stepping into the clothing store was a sweet reprieve from the chill. He whispered a prayer under his breath, despite his lack of religious values. 

“Is it expensive in here,” Jesse asked. Everything in the store looked modern and sleek. The design was clean and minimal, with a color scheme ranging from dark wood to light ceramic.It  _ looked  _ like it might be expensive. Then again, anything more than five bucks was expensive to Jesse.

“Nah, it’s alright. Depends on what you’re looking for, though,” Andersson shrugged. “I shop here sometimes, but Marnie buys her clothes here more often. You can definitely buy casual stuff.”

Jesse wandered through the store, keeping an open mind as he examined the clothing selection available to him. He knew that he probably needed a few pairs of jeans and some shirts, but “style-wise” he wasn’t quite sure what he should be going for. 

Andersson came around to find him a while later. She placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Find anything?”

“I’m kinda at a loss. Don’t even really know what size I am,” Jesse murmured. He was flicking through a rack of dark t-shirts, ranging in color from dark reds and blues to black.

“Mm. Well, we can stick with the basics for now,” Andersson said. “Let’s get you some jeans, a nice jacket, and a couple shirts. Maybe some socks and undies?”

“Yeah, that… should be good,” Jesse nodded at her. “What size should I-”

“I have a feeling you’ll be growing a bit more, maybe a size bigger than you are currently,” she guessed. She reached forward and grabbed a deep red t-shirt. “This would be a really nice color on you.”

“Would it,” Jesse asked. He raised an eyebrow at the color. 

“Yeah, definitely. Red looks nice on you,” she grinned. She held the shirt up to him. “Yes, it’s definitely your color.”

She looked him up and down and her gaze stuck on his feet. “Maybe a new pair of shoes?

 

~~~

 

“Chin down, McCree.”

Jesse was rubbing at his cheek, the throbbing feeling of his skin and the ring of his ears settling into his skull. He glanced up at Commander Reyes, who had returned to his position a foot away, already in a combat stance.

“Ya actually hit me,” Jesse grumbled. He dropped his hand to his side and stretched his jaw, ignoring the aching that accompanied the action. That would definitely bruise tomorrow. He wondered if it was worth it to make a trip down to medical to ask Doctor Ziegler for something to prevent bruising.

It was nearing the end of their nightly training session, something that had a fairly regular schedule as of late. Every night that the both of them were available, Reyes and Jesse would meet up in the training room. Reyes would do some practice combat with him, teach him how to dodge and how to hit the hardest. 

“If you don’t listen the first three times I tell you, then I figured actually hitting you was the only way for you to realize it hurts,” Reyes chuckled. He lifted his white t-shirt up to wipe the sweat off his brow. Jesse’s eyes were drawn to the taut muscles of his stomach, but he quickly tore his gaze away. 

The low humming noise of the air conditioner nearby, and the sound of feet squeaking on the training mat was a familiar one at this point. Jesse still needed some time to adjust to the bright white lighting, but it was slowly becoming less grating.

“Why are we fightin’ like it’ll be a fair fight? I feel like we’re in a wrestlin’ match,” Jesse asked. 

Reyes had barely broken a sweat twenty minutes ago, despite the fact that they had been training for at least an hour. It was strange, and Jesse felt disgusting with the sweat dripping down the small of his back.

“If I fought you how an enemy would actually get the drop on you, you’d die. I want you to have at least a fighting chance before we start realistic drills,” Reyes teased. “Besides, we’ve tried them before.”

“Yeah, when I was skinnier than a stick and couldn’t even do a push-up,” Jesse said. “I think I can handle myself now. I can spar with Andersson jus’ fine.”

Jesse thought that he had filled out nicely since he’s been here. He thought it was impossible for him to gain weight so quickly, and yet there he was. He was significantly taller as well, which was strange. Andersson had commented on it frequently, claiming that Doctor Ziegler must’ve been feeding him drugs of some sort. 

“She goes easy on you,” Reyes grinned at him. He was shifting back and forth on his feet, as if he was expecting Jesse to attack at any moment. (As if Jesse had enough energy to even attempt it).

“No, she don’t.”

Reyes raised an eyebrow. “Ahuh…” 

He crossed his arms over his chest, his arm muscles practically exploding from his t-shirt. Jesse did his best to look away.

Jesse may or may not have been developing a bit of a crush on his commander, despite his best efforts not to. It was hard though, when he trained with Reyes one-on-one every night, and the two of them got all sweaty together and Jesse was forced to watch him stretch and flex. 

Jesse assumed that it was normal, and other recruits had probably felt the same way at first. Commander Gabriel Reyes was a handsome man to say the least. He was a softie too, which Jesse learned when he walked into the Blackwatch Wing to see him taking measurements of agents for Halloween costumes the week previous.

He asked Andersson about it later. Turned out that Reyes was a beast with a needle and thread, and had been making Halloween costumes for his agents and friends for years. He had an eye for design, hence the color scheme of the Blackwatch Wing. 

“Alright, c’mon. Go for it, but don’t take it easy on me,” Jesse said, a goading tone echoing his words. 

Reyes’ eyes narrowed. “Do you have a death wish, McCree?”

Jesse chuckled and smirked. “Not a chance.” He spread his arms in an open invitation. “Come and get me, Bo-” 

His sentence was cut off by a gurgling sound being forced from his throat. Reyes had lunged for him when Jesse was trying to be cocky, which was fair enough. He’d managed to push Jesse back to the floor, knocking the wind out of him in the process.

Reyes hovered over him, quite easily pinning Jesse down to the ground. Jesse stared back at him, unable to take a proper breath of air.

“Every time you open your damn mouth, it seems like you  _ want  _ to get beaten up,” Reyes said with a chuckle, staring down at him.

Jesse had half the mind to bite his tongue before he said something stupid. Reyes got off of him seconds later, holding out a hand for him to grab.

“C’mon, vaquero. Trainings over for tonight. Why don’t I make us some milkshakes or something?”

 

~~~

 

Jesse tried his best not to breathe too deeply. The utterly horrific scent of septic waste was threatening his very livelihood by the second, and it was taking nearly every ounce of his willpower not to head back to the surface.

Originally, he had been excited for his first big mission. Not that any of the other missions he did weren’t “exciting.” He’d been on plenty of them with Huber and the others, going in guns loaded and decimating their targets. But this mission he was going on, was his first mission with Commander Reyes. He was eager to show Reyes what he could do.

It was the middle of December, and despite the chill of the air, a warm cheery feeling had been filling the halls of Overwatch Headquarters. Even Blackwatch agents seemed excited. A tiny tree had appeared overnight, decorated in tiny lights. A wreath was hanging over the exit of the Blackwatch Wing, and Jesse had spotted some mistletoe precariously hanging in an awkward hallway that many agents passed at the same time. 

Jesse hadn’t celebrated any sort of winter holiday in quite awhile. The most they did in Deadlock was go out for beers and fuck around in the nearest city. Not particularly festive, unless you counted Skinny Sam who waltzed around the chilly Arizona desert dressed in nothing but a Santa hat and fluffy panties. (He was a strange one, but his hilarity and willingness to please got him out of multitudes of sticky situations with the Deadlock higher-ups).

Most of the agents were only excited for the holidays because it meant they got a week or two off and got to go home. It was some sort of Overwatch policy, apparently.

Jesse, however, had nothing to be excited for. Two weeks of doing nothing sounded awful, especially when he considered that most of the Blackwatch Wing would clear out for at least a week and leave him alone.

That wasn’t important when he was going on his first big mission, though. What was important was keeping the bile down as he walked through the slightly damp tunnels of London’s sewer system. 

The sloshing of water and footsteps echoing were the only sounds he could hear closeby. Above him, he could faintly hear the vibrations of hundreds of people, gathered to listen to a prevalent speaker give a speech about some controversial political issue that Jesse could care less about. 

Blackwatch was only there because the speaker was considered controversial, and they had rumors of a possible terrorist attack organized by a group that Overwatch had been struggling with. Some sort of group who wanted to bring back the omnic crisis, which was laughable and had been treated as such until a shooting in Germany just a few weeks ago during a similar rally.

Using to heat scanning, Blackwatch had caught winds of strange thermal energy coming from the sewer systems of London. Hence, why he was there, trudging behind Commander Reyes and trying his best not to lose his lunch.

Andersson and Johnson were up on the rooftops, watching for any suspicious activity. Marsh was waiting for any intel that there needed to be an evacuation. That was only the last resort, though. Overwatch had specifically asked them to arrest members of the terrorist organization. The only way to do that was to heighten their confidence of success and increase their chances of fuckups. 

Jesse’s revolver was in his hand, warm metal that fit comfortably into his palm. A small flashlight attached to the shoulder of his gear was illuminating the way in front of him, which was essentially just Reyes. It casted an eerie shadow into the space before them, Reyes’ form appearing far larger and creepier in the tunnel.

They had been walking for ten minutes, following the main sewer track with their utmost care. They needed to stay quiet and minimize any signs that they are there. They were hoping that the members of the terrorist organization were far too distracted with setting up their plans to notice them.

The sewers were pitch black, save for their flashlights. An uneasy feeling crept settled over Jesse’s shoulders, an uncomfortably warm snake curling around his spine. He stood up a bit taller and glanced behind him. Of course, it was to no avail. It was pitch black, even if his mind was saying that something was there. 

When he turned back towards Reyes, he nearly ran straight into his back. The man had stopped, fist raised in a silent command. Jesse paused just behind him, toes right on his commander’s heels.

They stayed quiet for a moment. Jesse watched the rise and fall of Reyes’ shoulders, very slight and otherwise still. He was facing forward, staring into the darkness before him.

He whispered quietly back to Jesse. “Do you hear that?”

Jesse strained to hear anything besides the rushing of filthy water, the faint voices echoing above them. It was absolutely silent besides that, and he was about to reply when he heard it. A very faint squeak of a wet shoe in the distance, down where they were going. 

“Yes,” Jesse replied back. “Sir- I don’t gotta good feelin’.”

“Neither do I,” Reyes said. “Stay vigilant.” 

He dropped his arm and continued walking. He was going at a turtle’s pace, practically tip-toeing. Jesse cringed at each of his too-heavy footfalls. He tried to be silent, but putting more weight on the tips of his shoes only made them squeak on the damp cement.

They kept going anyway, listening for any suspicious activity. The uneasy feeling had yet to leave Jesse, leaving him tense and always glancing over his shoulder. 

The darkness was just darkness, a lesson he learned as a child. There was nothing more, and he  _ knew  _ that. His mind must’ve been playing tricks on him, though, because he swore he saw something move that was even darker than the darkness.

They walked further, further than before. They heard no other sounds for a while, and so they didn’t stop. Jesse kept an ear out, though, just as he knew Reyes was doing. 

It was another twenty minutes before they came upon anything strange. In the distance, there was the faintest red light, blinking. 

Reyes glanced back at Jesse, pointed it out. Jesse nodded in the darkness, hoping that Reyes saw that he nodded. Their flashlights were strong, but it was like the light itself was being sucked away by the shadows.

They approached the light, and as they got closer, they could see the distinct shape of it, losing its blurry edges. They cautiously approached, wary of the fact that this was most likely a trap. 

When they were within a foot, Reyes stopped Jesse, then walked forward himself. Jesse watched as Reyes walked up to the blinking light. Jesse shined his flashlight on it. It was a small metal box, strapped to the left side of the tunnel. There was a blinking light, but besides that, the box was devoid of anything else. 

Reyes’ brow furrowed as he stared at it. He sighed and turned on the comm channel. 

“Hey, Agent Marsh, can you hear me?”

Even spoken quietly, his voice echoed along with the trickle of dirty water and waste. There was no reply.

Jesse felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention, as if a breeze had blown by especially cold. Jesse glanced behind them, expecting to see… something. There was nothing, though. He shined his flashlight back the way they came, which exposed the empty tunnel, and nothing else. 

Jesse squinted, then sighed. Of course he was getting a weird feeling, they were being stalked in the sewers. He turned back around to face Reyes, and as he did so, the flashlight strapped to his armor just so happened to illuminate something.

A hand, reaching from the darkness. It held a gun, the barrel pointed straight at Commander Reyes, finger pursed on the trigger.

Without any hesitation, Jesse whipped his revolver around, aiming and pulling the trigger in split seconds. The sound of the gun firing was deafening as it echoed around the tunnel, making Jesse’s ears ring. He stumbled forward, moving to tackle the enemy on instinct. Of course, it was not graceful, not with the sound of the gunshot ricocheting off the sides of his skull, making him dizzy. 

Commander Reyes stumbled forward against the wall, shocked by what was happening. He caught himself on the wall, but Jesse saw nothing else as he fell face first onto the dirty sewer ground. The cement was wet, and the horrific smell was intensified with his face pushing up against it. 

He stayed there momentarily, in a dazed shock. His ears were ringing, his eyes not quite working right. The darkness was just darkness, of course, but he was seeing lights dancing around and strange blurs. 

He felt hands on his shoulders a few moments later, a distant voice calling his name. It sounded warbled, as if underwater, far far away.

Jesse blinked, once twice. The voice got clearer. It was Commander Reyes, yelling, telling him to get up. 

Jesse blinked more, once, twice, three times. He shook his head and allowed for Reyes to guide him up, first into a sitting position and then into a standing one. Jesse still had no idea how he wasn’t affected by certain shit, like excessive amounts of physical activity or incredibly loud gunshots. 

Jesse looked up at him, shielded his eyes when a light was pointed in his face. The light from his own flashlight just barely illuminated Reyes, his face filled with great concern. 

Jesse groaned, he reached for his head. It was pounding. 

“The-the hand,” Jesse mumbled, nonsensically. 

“You got them, McCree. You got them,” he said, his tone almost quiet and reassuring, laced with worry that was far different than how he normally spoke to his agents. Jesse’s ears were jacked though, so he was probably imagining it.

Jesse turned and glanced at the enemy he had shot down. His flashlight illuminated their feet, thick boots and wet jeans. The body was unmoving.

Reyes helped him up a minute or so later, once Jesse could see properly and his ears aren’t ringing.

“You alright,” Reyes asked. His voice sounded normal now, in volume and tone. A very controlled sort of concern, one that made Jesse feel as if he was important, but not as if the situation was grave.

Jesse nodded. “Yeah, that was fuckin’ stupid of me,” he grumbled to himself.

“Yeah, but you got the job done. What would we have done if I had gotten shot in the head, huh,” Reyes pointed out. “Quick thinking doesn’t necessarily mean  _ smart  _ thinking.”

Jesse scoffed. He wiped his wet hands on his pants, then bent down to grab his revolver, which he must’ve dropped. He was momentarily worried when he couldn’t find it, prepared to dig through the disgusting flow of liquid waste to find it, when Reyes dangled it down by his face.

“You drop something,” he asked, just a bit teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse huffed. He stood up and grabbed his gun, ran his fingertips over the grip. He reached into a pocket he had on his arm, grabbing a bullet to replace the one he’d shot.

Reyes had moved over to the body at this point, kneeling beside whoever it was.

“Human,” he said. Jesse wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but it didn’t matter.

Jesse walked over slowly, taking a few steps for his balance to get back to normal. The assaulter had tragically collapsed back into the septic water rushing by. There was a bullet hole right underneath his left eye, exploding part of it. The bullet must’ve angled upwards slightly to hit his brain. 

“Damn, not too bad for a shot in the dark,” Jesse whistled. 

“I’ll give you that,” Reyes said. He grabbed the enemy’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. “If I had known we would be in a sewer, I would’ve gotten nightvision goggles for us.”

“Don’t think Overwatch would let us have such precious equipment,” Jesse mocked. Not only that, but Overwatch was notorious for giving Blackwatch missions with missing pieces of information. For instance, the fact that the terrorist operation was camping out in the sewers.

Jesse glanced around. The eerie feeling had not quite left him, but it had subsided.

He noticed the box on the wall then, the red light still blinking. He walked towards it, brow furrowed. He hadn’t seen it before, maybe because it was dark and he came at it from the wrong angle, but there was a small timer on the bottom. He leaned closer and squinted to read the digits in the dark. It was counting down… from 00:00:13.

Jesse’s eyes widened. 

“Boss! We gotta go! This thing is countin’ down,” Jesse exclaimed. 

Reyes was up immediately. He went over to examine it, and before Jesse could see the look on his face, he was grabbing Jesse by the shoulder and pushing him forward, back the way they came. 

“Run! Let’s go!”

“Shouldn’t we go the other way!”

“We don’t know what’s down there, we know what’s this way. Let’s go!”

Jesse stumbled as Reyes pushed him, but eventually got control of his own feet. They sprinted forward, hyperaware of the silent clock ticking down lower and lower. Jesse had no idea how long that conversation had taken, how long they had left, but all he knew was that he was sprinting as fast as he could, with Reyes breathing down his neck pushing him further, nearly stepping on his heels.

He knew Reyes could run faster than him, which was why it was peculiar that he was behind him. He opened his mouth to ask, to bravely suggest that Reyes go in front of him. Before he could, however, Reyes was tackling him to the ground, covering his body with his own.

Jesse was about to yell, when the ground rumbled and a strong ripple of heat and energy filled the space in the tunnel. Jesse braced himself, fingers digging into the wet cement. When the blast went off, it was  _ loud.  _ Jesse couldn’t cover his ears from this angle, not with Reyes pressed up behind him, practically wrapping his body around Jesse.

It was a strange feeling, really. Jesse wasn’t sure how far away they had gotten from the small device, but it must’ve packed quite the punch for their bodies to be sent flying forward. The heat from the blast singed his exposed skin, but Jesse could barely even register the feeling of it before he was connecting with the ground again, landing on something and a heavy weight landing on top of him. Their bodies slid across the pavement for a few feet, scraping Jesse’s skin despite the layers of clothing. At least it wouldn't be too bad.

It all happened so fast, though. Jesse didn’t necessarily feel all of it initially, but he felt an ache spread through his entire body a few seconds later. His ears were ringing once again, and felt like they were bleeding.

When he opened his eyes, he realized it was still pitch black in the tunnel. The flashlight that used to be hooked to his armor had broken off somehow, now a few inches in front of his face. It was just slightly fractured, but it illuminated the ceiling and the space around them in very faint light. The ceiling looked cracked, but Jesse couldn’t quite tell.

He heard a groan from behind him then, right in his ear. It sounded distant, his ears were still ringing. He glanced back, but the movement was accompanied by a soreness. 

It was Commander Reyes, pressed against his back. His chest was rising and falling.

Jesse tried shifting, though he found he was kind of stuck.

“Commander. Y’alright,” Jesse asked. A stupid question, really. His Commander had just taken the full blunt of an explosive device to save his scrawny ass. 

Reyes grunted out a sound that was… some sort of affirmation. It took him a few more moments before he could shift off Jesse, rolling to the side.

Jesse forced himself up, ignoring the ache in favor of examining his commander. He grabbed his now-detached flashlight and shined it over Reyes’ body.

“You hurt?”

“Fine,” Reyes grunted out. He moved to sit up, Jesse reached out to help him. “Really, I’m fine.”

“How the fuck,” Jesse asked, eyes wide. Reyes didn’t look “fine” necessarily, but he definitely didn’t look like he should look after  _ that _ . “Shouldn’t you be like-- on the verge of death?”

“Damn, thanks McCree,” Reyes huffed, a pained chuckle leaving his lips.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Jesse replied. He glanced around. The tunnel was silent, with the exception of the shifting rubble. 

He opened the comm channel. “Hello, Andersson, Marsh, Johnson -- we need to evacuate the area of civilians and get some backup down in the sewers there was an explosion.”

There was no reply. Jesse frowned. “The fuck--”

“Comms are being interrupted,” Reyes groaned. “It’s been like this since we got down here. We need to get back to the surface.”

“Are you okay to walk?”

In reply, Reyes stood by himself, quite miraculously. It was slightly slower than usual, but he definitely didn’t look anything but a bit sore. 

Jesse blinked. “What. The. Fuck. Are. You?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re out of here,” Reyes chuckled. He stepped closer and slung an arm over Jesse’s shoulder, bracing just a bit of weight on it. “C’mon, let’s get out of here before more hands with guns appear out of the darkness to finish us off.”

 

~~~

 

Reyes didn’t explain when they got out of the sewers, nor did he explain when they were in the airship back home. He didn’t explain when they got back to Headquarters either, and he didn’t explain after the various meetings the entire team was forced to sit through.

When they got back to Headquarters, Doctor Ziegler had to threaten to have Commander Reyes restrained so she could check him out. 

She had said something along the lines of “I don’t care how invincible you think you are, Reyes,” which just served to confuse Jesse further.

The entirety of the team (sans Marsh)  had been squished into a small examination room, away from the rest of the medbay. Jesse knew why, Blackwatch business was always underwraps, no matter what exactly it pertained to.

Turns out, while Reyes and Jesse were struggling below the city, Andersson, Johnson, and Marsh were struggling above. The terrorists had revealed themselves, cloaked figures at the top of the building. The speakers being used for the speech were hacked, and an evil cackling voice had rung out around the city, announcing their impending doom.

Marsh took a few shots to the leg, but the two perpetrators were taken into custody in the end. Any other traces of the gang weren’t found initially, but an excavation and investigation of the sewers by local police forces was underway.

There were no civilian casualties, just a sprained wrist from someone who was trampled by a panicked crowd. The speaker was not harmed, so technically the mission was  _ not  _ a failure. In fact, it leaned more towards a success considering they  _ did  _ bring in two terrorists.

Reyes put up with Doctor Ziegler’s examination for a few minutes before shrugging her off.

“I have to… fix this mess,” he told her. He looked vaguely in pain.

“I’m prescribing you painkillers,” she said, writing on a tiny piece of paper before stuffing it into her pocket. “I’ll have them delivered to your quarters later tonight before you go to bed.”

“I’ll be in my office,” Reyes said. He nodded to Jesse, Johnson, and Andersson, who had been waiting to get looked over, then left.

Ziegler sighed and turned to them, trying to smile softly. “Alright, who’s next?”

“I think Jesse fucked up his shoulder,” Andersson volunteered him.

 

~~~

 

Jesse was sent on another two-person mission with Huber the following day, and he returned on December 23rd. It was a stakeout mission, and they stayed a bit longer than necessary, but Huber had wanted to enjoy his time in Germany. Jesse wasn’t complaining, the ale was fantastic and so was the food.

When they got back to Headquarters, Jesse discovered that most of Blackwatch had left for vacation. Anybody that hadn’t left already, would be leaving soon. 

Andersson had left him messages, saying he was welcome to come home with her if he wanted. He thanked her for the offer, but politely declined.

By the end of the 24th, everyone was gone. Or at least, he was fairly sure everyone in the Blackwatch wing was gone. He hadn’t seen anyone outside of their room, so unless someone was purposely avoiding him, there was nobody left.

He spent Christmas Eve sprawled out on the Blackwatch community couch, watching shitty Christmas movies and eating popcorn and other entirely unhealthy foods. He considered it a gift to himself, the fact that he wasn’t forced to endure training nor eat any specific kind of food.Maybe he’d even crack into one of those box cake mixes tomorrow and make himself a cake for the holidays. He deserved it, he felt.

It was relaxing, overall. There was nothing to be stressed about at that very moment, though, and Jesse eventually fell asleep.

He woke up to a growling stomach and a watering mouth. Delicious scents were wafting around the room, tasty enough to pull him from his slumber. He sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

The sounds of the room came back to him. Christmas movies were still playing, but were now accompanied by the sound of something in the kitchen and… humming?

Jesse looked back towards the Blackwatch kitchen, and was surprised to see Commander Reyes standing over the stove. He was humming and stirring something, and seemed to be the source of the wonderful scents overwhelming his senses.

He glanced at the coffee table. His trash and empty plates were now gone, and his hat was sat nicely besides the remote. If Jesse would’ve known anyone was coming back, especially Reyes of all people, he wouldn’t have been such a slob.

Jesse stood up from the couch. He was dressed in one of the first shirts they’d given him at Overwatch, and a pair of sweatpants he’d recently bought for himself. They were quite well made, and had pockets which he liked to stuff his hands into when he felt fidgety.

He walked over towards the kitchen, subconsciously trying to be quiet. He didn’t want to sneak up on Reyes or anything, but he just felt as if he should be quiet. As Jesse stepped into the kitchen, the scent of delicious food intensified.

The oven was on, and from the looks of it, was stuffed to the brim with different pans. All four of the stovetops were in use, and Reyes seemed to be easily going between each and every one. 

“Commander?”

Reyes glanced back at Jesse and smiled. He stopped stirring and set a spoon down on the countertop. He turned off two of the stovetops and lowered the heat on the other two. He turned to face Jesse, rubbing his hands on the blue apron he was wearing. He smiled.

“Finally sleeping beauty is awake, eh,” he teased.

Jesse huffed. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“What? Not happy to see me?”

“Nah, nah I mean-” Jesse stammered, then sighed. Reyes was barely holding in laughs at Jesse’s inconvenience. “I meant, why are ya here right now? Ain’t everyone supposed to be on vacation?”

“I was on vacation, and now I’m back,” Reyes shrugged. 

He wasn’t wearing his beanie for once, and it looked as if he’d grown his hair out a bit. Jesse could see just the faintest curls in his dark locks. 

Jesse nodded. He didn’t really know what to say, and didn’t want to pry. 

He leaned up against the counter, his fingers squeezing at the fabric in his pockets.

“What’s all this, then? Y’know I’m the only one here right,” Jesse asked, tilting his head a bit.

Reyes slipped large, chunky oven mitts over his hands and went to open the oven. He pulled out a large tray covered in foil, and replaced it with a tray of biscuit dough. He took off the gloves and pulled the foil off the tray to reveal one of the biggest chunks of meat Jesse had ever seen. He was fairly sure it was a ham, with honey-glaze practically dripping off of it. 

“I always make Christmas dinner for my agents, whether they’re here or not. Usually, a lot more people stay behind. But this year it’s just us,” Reyes said. He didn’t seem disappointed by it at all.

He was taking long metal rods and sticking it into the ham, shifting it around. Jesse didn’t know why.

“You always do this,” Jesse asked. 

“Yep,” Reyes nodded. He stopped prodding, seemingly satisfied. He turned back to the stove instead, stirring each of the pots before putting everything down. “Can you grab some plates and silverware? Once the biscuits are done, we can eat.”

Jesse nodded. “Yeah, alright.”

 

~~~

 

They ended up settling on the couch, leaning over the coffee table where their plates were set up.  It hurt Jesse’s back a bit, but he wasn’t complaining as he practically shoveled mounds of food in his mouth.

Normally, Reyes wasn’t the one who cooked for the rest of Blackwatch, and Jesse had nearly forgotten what a good chef he was. On top of ham and mashed potatoes, their Christmas dinner also consisted of biscuits, carrots, tamales, and green beans. 

Jesse was on his third serving of food, ignoring the necessity of breathing in favor of eating. 

He was starting to slow down, and so he set his fork down for a break. He leaned back into the couch with a groan, acutely aware of how satisfied and full he felt.

“God damn, you’re a good cook, boss,” Jesse sighed.

Reyes chuckled. “Did you even taste it?”

He not only ate considerably slower, but also refrained from piling his plate sky-high. He was only on his second plate. 

“Yeah, and it was fuckin’ delicious,” Jesse groaned. “I ate way too much.”

Reyes nudged Jesse’s plate towards the other edge of the table at that.

“I’m cutting you off then,” Reyes said with a smirk. “There’ll be leftovers tomorrow, don’t worry vaquero.”

He finished the last few bites from his plate then pushed his own aside. He looked over at Jesse. 

“So, what’ve you been doing all alone?”

“Huber and I only got back from Germany yesterday, so not much,” Jesse shrugged. 

“Wasn’t that only a three-day mission?”

“Huber turned it into a five-day mission,” Jesse said. “And I wasn’t gonna complain ‘bout it.”

Reyes laughed. “Fair enough.”

“What were you up to for vacation, boss?”

Reyes sighed. “Flew out to L.A. to meet with my family, then to Mexico to meet with more family, then came back here,” he said. “I’m still exhausted. The shit they do for Christmas is insanity, McCree, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“I vaguely remember my ma goin’ lil’ bit nuts ‘round Christmas time. She made me go to church every damn day, had to listen to these borin’ ass sermons,” Jesse said. 

It was easy enough to get out of it, though. Just make a little too much noise and fidget a little too much, and she’d get frustrated and tell him to go outside and play.

“Yeah, it’s a serious holiday to Catholics, McCree. Don’t underestimate them.”

The room went quiet for a bit, not awkwardly so. The television was playing, though the volume was turned down to practically nothing. 

“Uh- we didn’t get to talk after the mission in London,” Reyes started a few minutes later. 

“No, we didn’t,” Jesse shook his head. 

That was bothering him for awhile too. He wanted to know how the fuck Reyes had been able to take the full blunt of the explosion and walk away with a  _ limp _ , as opposed to all his flesh oozing off. 

“Well, uh, that was my fault, in my defense. I wasn’t entirely busy as I led on,” Reyes said.

“Nah, it’s alright, you’re always busy as hell, Boss. And Morrison was up your ass anyway,” Jesse said, just a slight edge of bitterness in his tone. 

“Wasn’t too bad,” Reyes shook his head. “There weren’t any casualties, just intense structural damage. And… it technically  _ was  _ a success.”

“Yeah, but they expected us to get in and out in an hour with no damage left behind, which was bullshit. We didn’t know we were dealin’ with bombs,” Jesse huffed. 

“When do we ever go in with enough intel, though?”

“Don’t make it okay,” Jesse said. “But uh- so, speakin’ of that bomb? How the fuck did you not  _ die _ ?”

Reyes barked out a laugh. “Well, when I was about eighteen and I joined the army, they put me through this Soldier Enhancement Program. Essentially, they pumped me, and a handful of others, full of chemicals to make us into super soldiers.”

“What the fuck, that sounds highly illegal,” Jesse said. He didn’t quite believe it.

“Yeah, well it’s highly classified so don’t say anything to anyone about it,” Reyes huffed. He said it so nonchalantly, as if he trusted Jesse to keep his yap shut without having to be even the slightest bit threatening. 

He was leaning back against the couch, practically submerging himself into the relatively thin cushions. This was the first time Jesse had seen his commander truly  _ relaxed.  _ Not behind his desk, teasing with a drink in his hand. Not chatting with his agents, eating breakfast with seemingly no rush. Reyes looked truly at peace, 

“Did you  _ know  _ that the explosion wouldn’t kill you?”

Reyes hesitated. “I was… fairly sure it wouldn’t.”

Jesse’s eyes widened. “What?! What if you had gotten seriously injured?”

“I’m your Commander, Jesse. I’m supposed to protect my agents.”

“Not from explosions! That’s one thing where I think it’ll be alright to run away and save yourself,” Jesse said, he shook his head and sat forward a bit. He still felt just a bit too full to  _ move. _

“Well, both of us are fine, so I guess it wasn’t an issue then,” Reyes sighed. He looked up at the television and chuckled. “Oh man, this movie? This is a classic, made in the eighties.”

Jesse’s face screwed up. “An’ they still playin’ it? It’s been goin’ on and on all fuckin’ day. It’s ancient.”

He squinted up at the screen. The quality was bad, and no restoration could make it better. Jesse didn’t recognize a single reference from it, let alone any pieces of technology. 

“Yeah,” Reyes chuckled. “Was made way before my time.”

“Well, obviously. What are you, like thirty?”

Reyes burst out laughing. “Really? You trying to flatter me,kid?”

Jesse hoped that Reyes couldn’t see the flush on his face. 

“Ya jus’ don’t look old,” Jesse shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. 

He looked away from Reyes, before his eyes could get caught on the way his chest was accentuated by the dark grey v-neck he was wearing. There was no denying that he had the hots for his Commander, at least not at this point. He might’ve tried to deny at first, but how could he?

Reyes hummed, the noise ending on a chuckle. 

“You do this every year?”

“Yeah, every year,” Reyes replied.

“You uh- you like that sorta stuff, huh? The- the uh- cookin’ and sewin’ and the interior decoratin’.”

Reyes chuckled. “Who told you about that last one?”

“Andersson. She said you put yourself in charge of the color scheme an’ everythin’,” Jesse said. “I mean, it looks nice as hell. You sure got an eye for it.”

“Thanks,” Reyes said. “I’ve always had a thing for it. It’s kind of a hobby of mine.”

“You don’t have time to do it a lot though, huh?”

“Nah,” Reyes shook his head. He smiled faintly. “I’m the Commander of a secret branch of Overwatch, home to multitudes of highly-trained and dangerous agents. Don’t exactly have time for knitting.”

Jesse pursed his lips. “Why don’t you take a break?”

“This last week  _ was  _ my break,” Reyes said. “Tomorrow night, I’m being sent to Cuba. Doing some recon for a massive drug trade that’s been going on down there.”

“Ain’t that not even Overwatch’s job?”

“If it’s being run by who we think it is, there’s also sufficient evidence of human trafficking and illegal omnic smuggling,” Reyes explained. “If it’s a big enough organization, Overwatch is called. If it involves unpalatable things, it comes to us.” 

Jesse nodded. He was very well aware of the way missions were distributed to Blackwatch. 

“You sure you should be goin’ alone?”

“There’s nobody else to go, and it’s just recon, nothing too dangerous.”

“Ahuh,” Jesse huffed. “What the hell you mean there’s nobody else to go? Am I invisible?”

“You deserve a break, Jesse.”

“I’ve barely done shit, since I was here, all things considered,” Jesse argued. “I feel like I should be doin’ way more.”

“You aren’t exactly considered a reliable agent, yet. You haven’t been on too many high stakes missions.”

“Ain’t all missions comin’ to Blackwatch high stakes,” Jesse questioned. “I mean I seen gunfire in nearly all of ‘em, ‘cept for the ones where the bad guys didn’t show. And even so, you’ve seen what I can do.”

“Yeah, but I have to fight for you to be on missions that Overwatch cares about most of the time,” Reyes responded. He leaned forward, clasped his hands in his lap. “You really wanna go on it?”

“I’m bored as hell sittin’ round here,” Jesse said. “Feel useless.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Reyes replied after a few moments of silence. “I’ll send you the files later, just tell me if you want to reconsider before five tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” Jesse said. He felt a smiling bubbling up, but he did his best to hold it in. Just two days of sitting around already had him eager for something new to do. Plus, he’d be with Reyes, which he could never get enough of.

Reyes nodded. He looked over at Jesse then, shifted his body towards him. His expression had softened.

“You know you don’t have to overwork yourself, just because of what happened before, right?”

Jesse blinked. 

“I gotta make up for what I did,” he replied, his voice near a whisper. “Gotta deserve to be free.”

Jesse thought about it a lot. He had dreams about the things he had done, the things he had been through. He knew he shouldn’t be where he was right now, but through some stroke of dumb luck he was. He knew he deserved far worse than what he was given, and so he felt a couple extra missions was the  _ least  _ he could do.

“McCree. What happened to you-”

“Does not excuse the things that I’ve done,” Jesse finished, his voice going sour. “And I don’t particularly feel like talkin’ bout it, right now, actually.”

“McCree,” Reyes started, then stopped himself. Jesse wasn’t looking at his face, he was looking at his lap. 

“I wanted a way out the second y’all went to Deadlock Gorge. That’s why I shot at Andersson, would’ve shot at more of ya too,” Jesse mumbled. “Don’t get how y’all can be alright with me bein’ here-” 

Jesse’s stomach felt heavy, just thinking about it. Reyes could’ve turned him in easy, he could be in jail right now-- he  _ should  _ be. 

“I could’ve hurt all of you, without even knowin’-”

“You’re a different man now, Jesse McCree.”

Jesse breathed out unevenly. “Goddamn, I hope so.”


	9. Chapter 9

Gabe woke up later than he was used to the next morning. His eyes blinked open, the morning sun streaming through one of the windows, just a bit too bright for his eyes. 

He woke up to the sound of Christmas music and light snoring from somewhere around him. He sat up and looked around. He had fallen asleep on the couch with Jesse,which explained why his back was sore. 

He looked over at Jesse. The kid was dressed in red flannel pants and a large borrowed hoodie. His face was smooshed into the pillow, and it looked like he was drooling. His chest was rising and falling slowly, peacefully.

Gabe sighed and stood from the couch. He heard his back pop in multiple places as he did so. It felt as if each individual piece of his spine was rattling. It was a very unsettling noise, one that he wished he wasn’t hearing. He supposed that even SEP couldn’t stop old age. 

Gabriel stretched his arms above his heads, then reached back to check his pocket for his cellphone and communicator. Once he was satisfied that he had everything he needed, he left. 

He debated on whether he should go back to his quarters to shower or not, before meeting with Jack to discuss his mission for today. Well, it wasn’t entirely  _ his  _ mission anymore, if he could convince Jack to let Jesse go with him. 

His communicator vibrated in his pocket, and his watch beeped. He glanced at it, stopping mid-stride down the hall. Jack was asking to meet in his office in five, which meant that he would be showering later.

 

~~~

“Would you like some coffee?”

Gabe glanced at the second mug waiting on the table. It was empty of any liquid, though light brown stains on the inside gave away the fact that it had been used. Gabe was fairly sure he recognized the mug, probably from when he used to wake up in Jack’s quarters everyday.

Gabe nodded, and gruffly thanked Jack as he poured a cup for him. Gabe cradled the mug and brought it closer, inhaling the scent of coffee before taking a long sip. He wasn’t a stranger to skipping breakfast, but skipping his daily cup of coffee? Now  _ that  _ was unthinkable.

Gabe watched Jack pour some coffee in his own mug, then proceed to pour in two packs of sugar and some milk. He held back a snort at the familiar sight. 

Jack sighed and took a sip. He was dressed head to toe in his stiff blue uniform, not that Gabe was expecting anything less. In fact, he had not recalled a time in the recent past in which he had seen Jack without it. Gabe was fairly sure he wore it to make himself feel above anyone else, though that might be a bitter assumption on his part, considering Ana wore hers frequently as well and he did not assume the same things about her.

Jack nonchalantly flipped through papers on his desk without looking back up at Gabe. He then glanced up towards his computer screen, typing words into his keyboard that looked more like a control panel. Gabriel wasn’t jealous at all, but Jack’s office was far nicer and more high tech than his own. He had a full wall of screens and a control panel that followed the wall, overlooking practically everything from the world news, to political updates, to security feed of Headquarters. Gabe was honestly happy that he wasn’t mandated to keep track of all that (though he usually did so anyway when he had the time).

After a few moments of typing, Gabe watched the files on his mission pop up on the screen. Jack slurped his coffee.

“Alright, so, are you all set for departure?”

“Yes.” Gabe paused, then amended quickly. “Actually, no. I would like to request to bring another agent on the mission.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“We could cover more ground, it’s a good experience, it means I’ll have someone watching my back if things go south,” Gabe listed. “There’s more, but I’ll cut it short.”

“I was under the impression that you were supposed to be in and out without detection,” Jack said. He tilted his head, a curious gleam in his eye. 

“Things can go bad on even the easiest missions, especially when we don’t know what to expect,” Gabe pointed out. “And two agents does not automatically mean we will be detected.”

“Alright, well, I also thought that most of your agents were out. Except for,” Jack paused. He frowned, and his brow furrowed. “You want to bring… The kid.”

“He’s not a kid,” Gabe said. “Well-- he’s a valuable asset.”

“He isn’t even technically supposed to be doing missions as it is, Reyes,” Jack sighed. “I really shouldn’t have fudged the training papers for him in the first place.  _ Or  _ the ones that said he had a squeaky clean record.”

“As far as anybody is concerned, McCree doesn’t have a record,” Gabe said, very matter-a-factly, as if it was common knowledge. “That was what we agreed upon, yes?”

“Yes,” Jack sighed. “He was going to be a completely unremarkable charity case until he miraculously joined the military.” 

The way he said it sounded as if he thought the premise was ridiculous. 

“It’s not like the files aren’t classified anyway. He’s in Blackwatch. Blackwatch doesn’t ‘really’ exist,” Gabe argued. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, you can’t deny that he’s talented.”

“Talented, and untested. He’s a wildcard. Might I remind you that just a few months ago, he was a criminal,” Jack countered. He had a deep frown, and was staring at Gabe with confusion. 

“You think I’ve forgotten that,” Gabe asked.

“I think maybe you’ve been just a bit too trusting of him, Reyes,” Jack replied. “You want to take him to Cuba? A foreign country, fairly close to home for him. He can speak Spanish, it’d be a nice place for him to escape to. He could sneak away, disappear into the crowd, lay low for a bit. You wouldn’t be able to find him,  _ and  _ he’d be in possession of a weapon and top-secret information.”

Gabe scowled at the mere thought of that. McCree would never do that, and the suggestion that he would do so made Gabe angry. He felt that protecting Blackwatch’s reputation was important, even if only a few were aware of its existence. That included all of his agents, who did good work in less than favorable conditions.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Gabe shook his head. “And he  _ couldn’t  _ do that. He hasn’t done that on any of his previous missions. Hell-- he saved my life in London. He wouldn’t.”

Jack raised an eyebrow from behind his mug. The action was somehow dripping with smugness, it made Gabe’s blood boil. 

“My, my. Reyes, you  _ are  _ getting soft,” he chuckled lightly. He leaned back in his chair casually, with an air of superiority emanating off of him.

“It’d be unfair to treat him differently than any of my other agents. He’s proved himself competent in other missions, in tests, and in trainings. He isn’t a probationary agent anymore, which was one of the requirements you had for him. I don’t see why you wouldn’t-- you shouldn’t even get a say in this,” Reyes said, his voice getting louder with every word. 

“This is a Blackwatch Mission. McCree is one of  _ my  _ agents. I want him on this mission, Morrison. So he’s going to be on it.” 

Jack huffed. He didn’t look at all surprised at Gabe’s outburst, as if it had been a long time coming. Gabe had a feeling that Jack was feeling satisfied about it, as if it didn’t say more about him than it did about Gabe.

“Fine, Reyes. Take him.”

 

~~~

The humid air stuck in his throat as Gabe walked the long path up towards the entrance of the hotel. He was dressed as inconspicuous as he could be, with a colorful button-up shirt and shorts. He was hauling some luggage behind him, and only flipped his sunglasses up once he was inside.

When making mission plans, this hotel had been carefully chosen for its proximity to the hotel in which their suspected targets were staying. There was a nice little spot on the coast of Cuba, which formed a nice little beach area that multiple hotels shared. El Hotel de Aguas Azules was right across from La Playa Dorado, the latter being the six-star resort that their targets had been calling their home for quite awhile.

El Hotel de Aguas Azules was nowhere near as nice as La Playa Dorado, but it was still a nice establishment. There was a deal cut out with them and their owners, about a certain code word that Overwatch agents would use in order to get access to the things they needed in this specific hotel. The only thing the hotel employees knew was that if a customer uttered this word, they must be given what they want at any cost. 

Gabe breezed up the the front desk, dragging a rolling suitcase behind him. It was heavy, filled with equipment for their mission. Any clothes or other  _ lighter  _ necessities were stuffed into a duffle bag he was carrying over his shoulder. 

There were two other guests waiting in line in front of him, and so he waited patiently. He scoped out the hotel lobby while he was there. The decor was nice, bright enough to give off the impression of a tropical paradise, all while being easy on the eyes. There weren’t too many people in the lobby at the moment, and the only people passing by looked like they were heading to the pool. Then again, it was far past normal check out time, and too early for check in time. 

Gabe made his way up to the front of the line. He smiled at the woman at the front desk. She looked younger, with her dark hair tied back into a relaxed ponytail.

“ _ Hello, I need to check in to a room under the name Jorge Hernandez,”  _ Gabe greeted in Spanish. He leaned forward onto the counter, pressing his knuckles into the cool tile.

The woman raised an eyebrow. “ _ I am sorry, sir, but rooms aren’t going to be ready for another hour-” _

_ “Oh, my bad. Perhaps I got the check in time wrong,”  _ Gabe sighed. He glanced around, then lowered his voice. “ _ I was told, however, that mentioning the goats might get me in a bit sooner.”  _

Gabe watched as the woman struggled to keep the pleasant look on her face. As far as she was concerned, the code word was just a way that certain snobby rich customers got special treatment. It was fair enough that she would look upon him with distaste.

“ _ Ah, of course, sir. My apologies. What kind of room were you looking for,”  _ she asked. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and her voice’s pitch just got slightly higher pitched to account for it.

“ _ It is no problem. If I could, I would like a room on the fifth or sixth floor, with access from the fire escape. You know, the rooms on the corner?”  _

The woman nodded. “ _ Luckily for you, the maids just finished cleaning those up,”  _ she replied with a smile. She started typing into a keyboard, her eyes scanning the screen in front of her. Gabe watched the her eyes scan the screen.

She took a few moments to locate something. “ _ A room on the fifth floor is fine then, sir?” _

_ “Yes, perfect.” _

_ “Very well. I will have it put under your name for the next…” _

_ “Four days,”  _ Gabe finished for her. “ _ I would also like to request that nobody comes into the room unless I specifically ask.”  _

_ “Of course, sir,”  _ she nodded. Gabe could see where her smile was tilting down. She looked curious, to say the least, and a bit bothered. Gabe didn’t blame her. This all probably sounded highly suspicious. 

She reached into a draw behind the counter and dug around for a bit, before pulling up two key cards. She handed them over, and Gabe takes them from her gently. 

“ _ Would you like me to call someone to help with your bags?” _

_ “No thank you, I can handle them. Thank you for your help.”  _

_ “Of course, sir. Have a wonderful stay.” _

Gabe nodded to her and then moved away from the counter towards the elevators to the left. He made note of the staircase on the opposite side of the room, probably a fire exit, which for whatever reason he felt that he would probably use over the course of the mission.

 

~~~

Gabe bit his lip, holding in a chuckle. Agent McCree looked… substantially pissed off. 

Gabe had been in the comforts of a four star hotel room for the past half hour, whilst McCree made the trek up the fire escape. He was now on the balcony, a scowl on his face as he wiped the sweat from his brow and yanked the handle of the balcony door. His frown deepened when he realized it was locked.

Gabe laughed, just a bit, and went forward to unlock it. He pulled the door open and immediately McCree was collapsing into the room.

“Holy shit. What the fuck.”

“Profanity, McCree,” Gabe laughed. 

“I’ve lived in the desert since I was a baby, and never have I ever felt heat as awful as that,” McCree grumbled. He had impressive patches of sweat under his arms, and as he walked further into the room past Gabe, he noticed another patch of sweat on his back. “Tell me again, why I couldn’t ‘ve jus’ came in the same way as you.”

“To avoid suspicion,” Gabe replied. 

“So, instead you have me crawl up the fire escape in broad daylight,” McCree questioned, raising an eyebrow. He sounded breathless.

Gabe pursed his lips. “Nobody saw, the fire escape is facing the road and people driving would just notice someone doing repairs.”

Though, the kid had a point. He should’ve snuck him in at night… that would waste valuable time though. 

“Whatever, I’m takin’ a cold shower,” he huffed. He pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. It was getting long, he needed a haircut. “Don’t bother me.”

“You do realize you’re talking to your commanding officer,” Gabe said, using just a slight bit of command in his tone. He didn’t really care. McCree’s attitude was amusing, more often than not, but that was no excuse to not correct it.

McCree acted more than respectful when they weren’t alone. He was teasing, sure, but nothing drastic enough to warrant punishment. It was just his personality, and Gabe encouraged those despite the line of work they were in. When they were alone, though, McCree got more casual. When he spoke, it wasn’t rude, but just how one would speak to a friend.

Gabe sat down on the edge of the bed. McCree had already closed the bathroom door and locked it behind him. Gabe heard the water start running, and he sighed. 

He leaned back into the pillows of the bed in the room. They were the perfect combination of soft and firm to ease the pressure off of his aching back. He crossed his legs and pulled out the mission plans again.

From where he was sitting, he could see the La Playa Dorado. It was considerably taller than this hotel, and had  _ six stars.  _ It also had tight security too, which made their job harder.

Their targets were on the top floor in the penthouse suite. They were celebrating a huge shipment they had smuggled in, according to their intel. 

The group themselves were fairly famous, on a large enough scale at least that it warranted Overwatch’s attention. They called themselves Venom, and had just recently got a big role in the smuggling scene. They had sort of replaced Deadlock as the main arms dealers in North America, and while they were at it took over the South too. On top of weapons, they also took part in human trafficking and supposedly some stuff to do with omnic technology. Gabe and McCree’s current mission was to figure out if that was true, and get additional intel on top of that for further investigation.

Gabe hoped that maybe, since they were relatively new to the scene and had just scored a big haul, that they might let their guards down a bit. Even so, Gabe wasn’t planning on starting anything mission-oriented until later tonight. 

The door to the bathroom opened a good thirty minutes later. Gabe glanced up from his mission plans, watched as a shirtless Jesse McCree sauntered out. His hair was dripping wet, and just accentuated his need for a haircut. He was whistling to himself as he walked over to the duffle bag on the edge of the bed, and started rummaging through.

“Forgot my shirt,” he explained.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Gabe chuckled. 

McCree was looking at the bag, but his cheeks seemed to be a bit pink. It was most likely from the ice cold shower that he said he was taking. He pulled out a red t-shirt and slipped it over his head. Gabe cringed.

“Your hair is going to get your shirt wet,” he said.

“It’ll dry eventually,” McCree shrugged. He looked up at Gabe then, and smiled. “What? Does it bother you that much?”

“Yes, they probably have a hair dryer in there,” Gabe said, gesturing towards the bathroom.

“I ain’t ever used a hair dryer in my life,” McCree scoffed at that.

“Use a towel or something, at least,” Gabe said. 

McCree rolled his eyes playfully, and stomped back towards the bathroom to grab a towel. A few moments later he emerged, the towel slung over his shoulders and his hair looking just a tad bit dryer.

“You call  _ that  _ drying your hair,” Gabe asked.

“Get over it,  _ sir, _ ” McCree said, his serious face breaking off into a smile. “Why does that bother you?”

“I don’t know. It just does, doesn’t matter,” Gabe sighed. 

He had memories upon memories of when he was younger, his sisters wrapping their long dark hair into purple fluffy towels the second they were out of the shower. They would go on to blow dry it later, and proceed to have fights about who could use the hair dryer first. When he had longer hair, he hated the feeling of his wet t-shirt sticking to his skin. His hair was never long enough to dry it with a hair dryer, but he would always at least use a towel.

McCree hummed and walked over towards the bed. He plopped down beside him, and squinted at what he was looking at.

“Mission plans?”

“Yeah. You read the stuff I sent you, right?”

“Yep,” McCree nodded. “I got some additional information, as well. It occured to me, in the shower, that Deadlock had interacted with these fuckers before.”

“Oh, and why did you not mention this before,” Gabe asked.

“Like I said, I just remembered it in the shower. Anyway, Deadlock hated ‘em. Not only ‘cus they were competition, but also ‘cus they were cocky assholes,” McCree sighed. He went to reach into his pocket, then stopped himself. He set his hand on his leg instead, and awkwardly cleared his throat.

“What were they like?”

“I dealt with ‘em personally a couple times,” McCree said. “They would have me go on raids and stuff like that, and sometimes we’d have ‘em help us out. They were cocky, and tried to pull shit over on us all the time like we were idiots. They were loose cannons too, or at least the guys they sent on raids were.”

He opened his mouth to say more, then stopped himself.

“Anything else?”

“Nothin’ that would be helpful to the mission.”

Gabe pursed his lips. “You still wanna say it?”

McCree hesitated. “I- I personally dislike ‘em a lot. They had this superiority complex, despite the fact that we had control of the U.S. and other international gangs went through  _ us  _ not  _ them.  _ Either way, couple a times when they tried pullin’ shit over on us, shit got violent.”

McCree’s fingers danced over his pocket again, like he wanted to grab something that wasn’t there.

“There was this one time, one of the last dealin’s we had with ‘em. We were robbin’ an armory down right on the border of Texas and Mexico. I was standing guard while the others were in the vaults. It was two Deadlock, and one of ‘em guarding. Three of ‘em were down in the vaults, two of us were down there with ‘em. We’d already cleared shit out, so we heard a gunshot. Me an’ my Deadlock buddy went runnin’, then I heard a shot from behind me. That sonofabitch shot Carlson. I got ‘im, got the other three. Only three of us survived,” McCree said. “All over some fuckin’ guns.” 

McCree looked very sullen, as he was speaking. He looked fidgety, as well.

“I jus’ realized, admittin’ this shit could get me arrested.”

“We already cleared your records,” Gabe said. “We can’t do anything about it now. I wouldn’t suggest saying anything like this to Morrison or Amari, though.”

“It’s funny that I feel comfortable enough sayin’ this to someone in the law, yknow?”

“It’s good that you feel comfortable talking to someone, McCree. It’s… it’s good that it’s me,” Gabe said, voice subconsciously softer. “I wouldn’t… It’s not like you had much of a choice in that situation.”

“Don’t gotta make excuses for me.”

“In that situation, in particular,” Gabe started. He sat up a bit straighter, shifted to look at Jesse. “In that particular situation, it was either let them kill you or kill them. So, in essence, not much you could’ve done. I’m happy it was them instead of you.”

McCree huffed. “Anyway, bet they’re fuckin’ celebratin’ ‘bout Deadlock bein’ gone. They’re probably even cockier now.”

“Which is good for us, they’ll have their guards down,” Gabe said. “I appreciate the extra information, McCree.” 

McCree nodded. “What’s uh- what’s our game plan then?”

 

~~~

“Why are you all agitated?”

“All what now?”

It was around one in the morning. The sky was dark, devoid of stars because of light pollution and the general smog. 

Gabe and McCree were sitting out on old pool chairs on the balcony, looking through the penthouse windows of La Playa Dorado. Gabe was holding specialized goggles up to his eyes, essentially binoculars that could see incredibly far and even listen in to quieter spaces. It could detect thermal anomalies, amongst other things.

There was approximately six different members of Venom up in that penthouse, at least that’s how many they had seen. Jesse was recording things that Reyes pointed out, along with his own observations he saw from the screen linked up to the goggles. 

There was loud music playing, but it was not a party by any means. There was one man sitting on an sleek, expensive couch that was more cushion than metal, playing some sort of video game. Another person was in the background, on the phone angrily speaking to someone. 

Even with his face stuffed into the goggles, Gabe had been picking up on McCree’s fidgeting this whole time. It wasn’t bothering him at all, but he didn’t recall a time in which McCree had been acting like this.

“You’re fidgeting,” Gabe said with a hum. “I see another person coming in to frame. Tall, fancier clothes. This a bigshot?”

He could imagine McCree squinting at the screen. “He… looks familiar. Maybe from meetings I was guardin’ the boss at.”

“Alright, mark him down,” Gabe said. The man was wearing white pants and a white overcoat, with an obnoxious floral button-up shirt underneath. His hair was slicked back. 

“He’s talkin’ to the guy on the phone, looks irritated but not nearly as mad,” McCree observed. 

“They must be someone important,” Gabe sighed. He went back to looking at the guy playing video games, who was now setting the controller down and standing. He looked towards the man in the white pants. “Yeah, White Pants must be some sort of authority.”

They watched for a bit. White Pants looked like some sort of suave figure, a leader most likely. The man on the phone hung up, looking particularly disgruntled. He said something to White Pants, and the other person put in some sort of information as well.

They were just talking after that, a back and forth conversation. It stretched on for a few minutes, ending in a finale in which White Pants pointed at the two of them, said something with a smug smile, and then marched away.

The two others went back towards the T.V. They both picked up controllers and started playing a video game again.

“Man, wish sound was workin’,” McCree huffed. “Would be particularly helpful.”

“Yeah,” Gabe sighed. He put the goggles down on his lap, and rubbed at his eyes. “You wanna take these? Try ‘em out?”

“In a bit,” McCree sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair, which looked tangled.

“Jesus, do you even brush your hair?”

“Didn’t think to bring a hairbrush on mission” McCree said. He was reading over the notes he made, though he didn’t look all that absorbed in them.

Gabe hummed. “So… what’s got you all fidgety then?”

McCree shrugged. “I ain’t fidgety.”

“Ahuh, and I’m Jack Morrison,” Gabe scoffed.

That got a giggle out of McCree.

Gabe sighed. For whatever reason, he was particularly inclined to be there for McCree. He’d like to think he was there for all of his agents, if they ever needed his help with anything. He considered them to be family, and treated them as such. He never pressed this hard with them, though. 

“ _ C’mon, McCree. You can talk to me.” _

_ “It isn’t something that requires Spanish, Commander,”  _ McCree replied. “ _ It’s really nothing, I promise.” _

_ “I don’t want my agents distracted or fidgety. If it affects your performance in the mission, I need to know.” _

_ “Fine. If you really need to know that badly, I really just need a cigarette.” _

Gabe barked out a laugh. That was painfully obvious. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“‘Cuz it’s bad for you. Doctor Ziegler was tellin’ me to stop, you were too, though you weren’t very encouraging,” McCree said. He ran his fingers through his hair again. “I’ve been doin’ alright, with it, y’know? But jus’ recently--”

“You’re adjusting, it’s stressful. I get it,” Gabe sighed. 

He reached into his pocket and grabbed the pack of cigarettes and lighter he always had handy. The pack was old, the paper ripping in places. He didn’t partake all that often, and so packs always lasted him awhile. There were about four left in this one, and he pulled one out for McCree. 

He handed it over, along with the lighter. 

“ _ Calm down, cowboy. Take a breather.” _

“Nothin’ like a stick of poison to really steady your nerves, eh,” McCree chuckled roughly. He brought the cigarette to his lips and lit the end. He took a drag, and sighed deeply. 

“One every once in a while won’t kill you,” Gabe shrugged. He knew that wasn’t necessarily true either, but in this case, he was willing to let it slide. “Again just--”

“Don’t tell Doc, I know I know,” McCree finished. He leaned back in his chair a bit, then brought the lighter up to his face to examine it. He raised an eyebrow. “This is some fine craftsmanship here.”

“Yeah, I’ve had that lighter since I was 19.”

“No shit? That makes it what, 40 years old?”

Gabe was tempted to shove McCree off of his chair, if it would wipe the smug smile off of his face.

“ _ Twenty,  _ actually,” Gabe corrected. He watched McCree shift it around in his fingers. The design didn’t particularly mean much to him, just a nicely carved skull and flowers into a deep red color. It was beautiful, apparently handmade. It fit his aesthetic nicely, which is why it was gifted to him.

It was strange letting other people look at it so closely. He was fairly sure he’d let McCree hold it before… but nobody else. Then again, nobody else really smoked with Gabe. 

McCree looked at the bottom of it, squinted at it. “What’re these letters for? ‘J’ and ‘G’."

Gabe hesitated. “It was a gift from someone,” he decided on. A simple enough answer, it wasn’t a lie.

“Ah, a sweetheart or somethin’,” McCree chuckled. He looked over at Gabe with a smirk. “The ‘G’ stands for Gabriel, right?”

“No, it stands for goat,” Gabe answered sarcastically. That made McCree smile again.

“Alright, Gabe and… lemme guess… Jessica?”

“No.”

“Janet?”

“No.”

“Julio?”

“No,” Gabe said, finally breaking into a smile. “It’s actually none of your business, agent.”

“It’s a harmless question, ain’t it,” McCree asked. He twisted the lighter around in his fingers a few more times, before seemingly finding satisfaction before handing it back. 

Gabe shrugged. He looked back up at the sky. Of the few stars bright enough to shine through the pollution, there was one in particular that was brighter and bigger than the rest. 

“This someone that’s still special to ya, if ya kept it all these years?”

Gabe hummed. “They’re special, not in the same sense anymore, though.”

McCree nodded. He looked up at the sky, right up at where Gabe was looking.

“Y’know, back home, on the road -- the sky was just filled with stars. It was the prettiest thing I had ever seen,” McCree sighed. 

“They were bright enough to light up the road as we were walkin’, or when we went down to the river for a dip. There was jus’ one river by Deadlock Gorge, a few miles away. Sometimes we would all walk there, get naked and splash around like abuncha idiots. It was usually jus’ the younger ones, the kids, yknow. In the summer, the water would be warm enough to step right in.”

“Sounds beautiful,” Gabe said. He looked over at McCree. He was looking up at that singular star in awe, not of its beauty but reminiscing of back home, he assumed. The light of the moon was the brightest thing in the sky tonight, and on the ground it was the multitudes of lights lining the pools and fountains. 

Taking a good look at him now, Gabe almost couldn’t believe it. It had only been a few months, but compared to the kid Jesse was when they first found him, some real progress had been made. His face wasn’t covered in dirt and blood, for one, and there was a real smile on his face. He was spunky, sure, but no longer some cocky little kid that needed to be knocked down a few notches. His face had filled out a bit more, as did the rest of him. 

McCree sighed and looked away then, right at Gabriel. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped once he met his eyes. They stared at each other for a few long moments. Gabe could see a glimmer of something in McCree’s eyes, something he hadn’t seen in him before. It was… strange.

Gabe looked away first. “Alright, let’s see if these fuckers turned off their music.”

He grabbed the goggles and lifted them to his eyes.

“Yeah, good idea,” McCree said quietly.

 

~~~

 

“So, there ain’t anythin’ for us to do during the day?”

“No, not really,” Gabe said. “I don’t want to be noticed. They’re feeling cocky, they’ll make mistakes we can take advantage of. If word gets out that they’re being watched, then it’ll make it way harder for us.”

“I’m gonna go down and get breakfast,” McCree sighed. He stretched his arms above his head. He was still dressed in pajamas, which were gym shorts and a too-large t-shirt. “You wanna come?”

“No, go ahead,” Gabe said.

“You want anythin’?”

Gabe thought for a minute. “If they have bacon… and coffee please.”

“Black, right?”

“Ahuh.”

“Got it. If I’m not back in 10, I’m dead.”

The door shut behind McCree, and Gabe sighed. He hoped he wouldn’t run into trouble, or any questions of which room he was in and if he was really booked at this hotel. Gabe told him the codeword to use if absolutely necessary, and a worryingly mischievous grin grew on McCree’s face. 

Last night, they had argued for about ten minutes on who would get the bed. McCree insisted that even the couches here were better than what he used to sleep on, and finally Gabe stubbornly gave in. Even then, waking up and seeing McCree’s legs hanging over the edge of the couch uncomfortably made him feel a bit bad. He’d make him take the bed tonight.

Gabe leaned back into the couch and sighed. He was scrolling through emails, most of which did not involve him in anyway. 

His tablet pinged, as did his watch, and he was alerted to a message from Strike-Commander Jack Morrison. Gabe groaned and went to read it, dreading the words it would read. He was expecting something about new intel that meant that him and McCree were screwed, or that they would be stuck there for a few extra days and expected to take down the entire gang themselves. Instead, the message was ominous and even worse.

Strike-Commander Jack Morrison: Keep an eye on Agent McCree, Reyes.

Gabe reread the words four times, and then felt a feeling of dread fill his belly. Jack had been insistent about his disliking of McCree for awhile. He brought it up practically every single time they spoke. He did it just to get under his skin, Gabe knew, but even then, it seemed that Jack had successfully planted tiny seeds of doubt in Gabe.

Jack,  _ did  _ have a point. McCree had only been with Blackwatch for a few months. He was captured in a gang bust, had admitted to doing various crimes. So what he was a good shot and hadn’t run away up to this point? He was a smart kid, he  _ could  _ be playing the long game.

Gabe glanced up at the hotel door. How long had McCree been gone getting breakfast? Had it been too long? Had he been fooling himself the whole time, being soft of McCree why?

He was just about to stand up to check if all of the equipment was here when there was a knock at the door. Gabe got up to answer it, and McCree was there, balancing two plates of food, a glass of orange juice, and a mug of coffee.

Gabe blinked.

“Can ya grab somethin’ before I drop it all?”

Gabe relieved Jesse of the two beverages, and set them down on the little table in the corner of the room. McCree walked into the room, shutting the door with his boot and setting the plates on the table.

“Luckily I got down there when I did, they were jus’ cleaning up. I convinced one of the employees to bring out some more bacon for ya,” McCree sighed as he sat down. He pushed one of the plates over to Gabe, piled high with fresh and crispy bacon. It smelled delicious.

McCree’s own plate had two waffles, a little container of syrup, and some hash browns. 

“My stomach was growlin’, havin’ to smell it the whole way up here. And lemme tell ya, the elevator is a lot nicer than the fuckin’ fire escape.” 

McCree grabbed two pieces of bacon from Gabe’s plate and put it on his own, then started to dig in.

“You didn’t convince the employee by using the codeword, right?”

“Nah, I used my good looks and charm,” McCree said around a mouthful of waffle with syrup dripping down his chin. Some of it was stuck in the tiny scruff of hair he had growing under his lips.

“Is that what they call it nowadays,” Gabe asked, smirking when McCree scowled at him.

“She gave me her number, said she thought American men were hot,” McCree said, wiggling his eyebrows. He stopped scarfing down waffles and reached in his pocket to grab a piece of paper, which he handed to Gabriel.

Gabe took the scrap and read off the numbers. It was written in pink ink with a little heart at the end.

“Emilia, eh? Gonna take her on a date, vaquero?”

“Nah, but I did notice a tattoo of a snake skeleton peeking out from underneath her sleeve,” McCree said, grinning.

Gabe raised an eyebrow at that. “The tattoo Venom members have?”

“Ahuh,” McCree grinned. “I carefully positioned the plate on my arm to hide mine, by the way, so don’t even worry ‘bout us seeming suspicious.”

Gabe smiled. “Nice work, McCree. Maybe you’ll be going on a date later tonight.”

McCree smiled back. He got back to eating then, and Gabe took a piece of bacon off his plate as he sipped at his coffee.

He looked away from McCree, back at his tablet. He wasn’t actually reading anything, though. Guilt was rising up inside of him, making his chest feel tight. Losing faith in his agents was bad, and he should have more trust for them. He made a mental note to stop listening to Jack Morrison and stop being paranoid.

 

~~~

Even at night, the sticky humid weather does not give up. There was a slight relief in the form of a breeze, which McCree had praised multiple times under his breath on their walk around the hotel circle.

They took the long way around, walking through thinning crowds of people. It was nearing midnight, when attractions and things to do start closing. The adult-side of the pool that all the hotels share closed at one, but even then, that night was quiet.

The fountains had stopped spraying extravagant streams of water, and instead spewed small amounts without any fancy lighting. There was music playing, though quiet and calmer than it normally is during the day.

They had been stuck inside the hotel all day, cooped up and doing their own thing. McCree alternated napping and watching movies, whilst Gabe settled all of the matters he could without his office. He had complained about paperwork enough that he might’ve piqued the concern of McCree, who had paused one of his movies to ask if Gabe needed help with anything.

It made the guilt from earlier feel even worse, simmering in his belly. McCree was shaping up to be loyal and kind, and it made Gabe feel prideful as well as awful. He shouldn’t have doubted him for a second.

They walked around through back alleys and other streets as they approached La Playa Dorado. As they got closer, the sheer height and impressive architecture of the building became all the more intimidating. It made their own hotel seem like a motel off the side of the highway. 

They kept an eye out for security as they got closer, looking for a way in around the back. Perhaps a door, or a fire escape. 

“So, we’re doin’ what?”

“Scoping out security, seeing if there are any ways we could sneak in easily,” Gabe replied, voice quiet. 

McCree nodded. He followed closely behind him, their boots scraping on the cement as they walked around an alleyway that bled out into the back of the hotel. There was a chain-link fence around the back, hidden so that from front it could not be seen. There was a long chain of dumpsters and supply crates.

“What do ya think are in those crates?”

“Towels, soaps, guns,” Gabe listed off. He glanced back at McCree. “You see anyone?”

“You goin’ in there?”

They were looking through the chain fence, staring at the crates stacked up high. They had the name of the hotel printed on it in deep red letters. There were only two lights around back, dim orange and barely illuminating.

“Would you rather?”

“I am an expert as goin’ through shit and makin’ it look like I wasn’t,” McCree said. “Or, I can use the X-ray thingie we got.”

He held up the small device, that looked like a paddle with a thick handle. The paddle part was actually a built in screen, that using thermal imaging that allowed the user to look through surfaces that are less than six inches thick.

“Alright, go ahead. I’ll be look out.” 

McCree grinned. He stuffed the paddle into one of his pockets and then started quickly and quietly climbing the fence. Gabe was impressed. McCree was on the other side in just 10 seconds, and yet it barely rattled.

Gabe watched through the fence as McCree made a break for the boxes. He looked around before kneeling down and using the scanner on them.

Gabe looked away from him and walked back around the alleyway a bit, so see if someone was coming from behind them. He stopped at the mouth of the alley and listened, and when he was satisfied that there was nothing out of the ordinary he walked back. 

McCree was still scanning the boxes when he came back, a smug look on his face. Gabe was hoping that meant that he found something. 

McCree climbed back over the fence when he was done.

“So, from the scanner, there looked to be towels, soaps, and guns, as you suspected. As well as…” He trailed off as he gave the scanner over to Gabe. Gabe flicked through the images McCree captured. There were a couple amidst all of them, which showed a strange mechanical structure. It gave off massive amounts of thermal energy, and something else that the scanner even gave warnings about.

“Yeah, this looks like some omnic shit,” Gabe said with a smile. “Looks like we’re in luck.”

“Yeah, unless there’s another gang sitting up there smuggling omnic parts,” McCree joked.

Gabe chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Alright-- let’s head back around on the other side and see if--” He cut himself off when he heard a shuffling noise back from where McCree just was. 

“What--”

Gabriel shushed him and walked closer towards the fence. Where the crates were stacked, there was another alleyway curving alongside the building to the left. As he looked closer, Gabe was fairly sure he saw he saw flashlights.

“Shit, there are guards coming,” Gabe whispered.

McCree cursed. “Alright, let’s leave then--”

“Not enough time,” Gabe interrupted. The lights were getting closer, he could hear voices now. In three seconds they would be coming around the corner shining a flashlight straight at them.

Gabe instead, pushed McCree back against a brick wall adjacent to the fence. He leaned in close and put his arms on either side side of his head. McCree squawked as he was pushed against the brick, but when Gabe shushed him and leaned in closer he said nothing. In fact, he seemed to hold his breath. Gabe looked down at him, but McCree looked away.

“ _ H-Hey! What’re you kids doing back there?”  _ A stern voice called out to them, and two flashlights washed over them.

Gabe jumped back, as if he was a kid being caught doing something bad.

“ _ Ah, I’m sorry. Me and my partner were just-- uh--” _

_ “Save it, save it,”  _ the guard replied with a sigh. They stepped up closer to the fence, looked between both of them. They had their long hair tied back into a ponytail. “ _ Listen, you shouldn’t be back here. I’ll letcha off the hook, but don’t let me catch you back here again.” _

_ “Yes, of course. Sorry, we’ll leave,”  _ Gabe said. He tried to smile guiltily. 

The guard nodded. “ _ If you see anything suspicious on your way back around here, please come and let me know.”  _

_ “Yeah, sure. Is-- is there something bad going on?” _

The guard’s eyes widened in alarm. The flashlight illuminated the nametag on their chest briefly. “Captain Lucia Diaz.” 

“ _ No, no. Of course, not. Everything is completely safe. You two should get back to your hotel, though,”  _ she said. Her voice gave no indication of everything being “completely safe” however.

Gabe and McCree walked back out the alleyway from where they came. Gabe swung an arm over McCree’s shoulder for good measure.

“Maybe we should call it a night, then, we can go around the other side tomorrow,” Gabe said quietly. 

They took the main streets back, trying not to raise suspicion by creeping through alleyways. 

They were about halfway back to the hotel when Gabe finally realized that he could probably remove his arm from McCree’s shoulder. He did so, then glanced over at him.

He looked as if he had actually been caught making out on private property. 

“You alright, McCree?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied. “That was… smart thinking?”

“What? The old ‘pretending to be a couple making out in places they shouldn’t be’? Yeah, usually it keeps you from being arrested or blowing your cover,” Gabe shrugged. “The person that finds you will be too awkward to do anything about you being back there except for sending you away.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize for this not being edited much. I'm tired, and just really wanted to get it out so I didn't feel guilty about working on other stuff. Anyway, enjoy!   
> Thank you for all of you who leave the sweet comments! They make my day and make writing so much easier. I love you all! <3

Gabe woke up the next morning, though instead of on the couch as he had initially planned, he was curled up in a warm comfy bed. He sat up with a yawn, turning off his alarm and stretching his arms over his head.

It was supposed to be early, and yet Jesse was already sitting upright on the couch. He was dressed, eating cereal with his eyes glued to his tablet. Gabe presumed he was watching a movie.

“Why the hell are you up at six?”

“It ain’t six. It’s eight. I just brought back breakfast, bacon and coffee for ya, Commander,” Jesse said, gesturing towards a covered plate on the table. 

“I always have my alarm set to six.”

“Yeah, well I changed it cuz  _ I  _ don’t like wakin’ up at six and we don’t have shit to do until later tonight so what’s the point of gettin’ up at buttfuck in the mornin’?”

Gabe opened his mouth to respond, and found himself only able to sigh.He wanted to ask how Jesse was even able to change his alarms, but decided against it. He got out of bed, the cool air conditioner hitting his exposed skin. He went to the bathroom, then came back and sat at the table to eat his breakfast and drink his coffee.

He glanced at McCree’s tablet, which was playing some sort of old western he didn’t recognize.

“You really like those movies?”

“Yeah. My dad had a bunch of ‘em, we’d watch ‘em when he got home from work,” McCree replied. “I’m happy they even got ‘em. Wasn’t sure, y’know, since everythin’ is digital. Like, in my house, we still watched DVD’s.”

Gabe laughed. “Really?”

“We were poor. That’s ultimately why my dad got all fucked up and ended up gettin’ us all fucked up,” McCree sighed. 

Gabe pursed his lips at that. That was one of the first mentions of something negative about McCree’s family that he had heard. He wanted to press, but didn’t want to make things uncomfortable either.

“I talked to Emilia, again… and she asked me if I wanted to go to a party at La Playa Dorado,” McCree said. He smirked at Gabe as if he was hot shit. “I told her ‘hell yeah’ and so, I’m goin’ to that.”

“Shit, McCree-- you gotta run this shit by me first.”

“Is it not the perfect opportunity? She’s takin’ me to a party run by the fuckin’ gang we’re after. I can go in there, get some intel, snoop around,” McCree said. He took a bite of cereal. “I couldn’t tell her to hold on while I ask my CO for permission.”

“You say that as if there’s no risk of  _ death,”  _ Gabe groaned. He took a long, much-needed sip of coffee. “Why the hell does she even--”

“What? Have an interest in me,” McCree asked. He stared at Gabe incredulously, the spoon still hanging from his lips.

“You have the  _ worst  _ bed head I’ve ever seen in my life, McCree. I want to comb it myself, then cut it all off.”

McCree gasped at that, and the spoon fell from his mouth and into the bowl, splashing milk everywhere.

“Fuck.” McCree reached for one of the napkins on the table to wipe off his shirt. “Anyway, how  _ dare  _ you insinuate that my hair needs to be cut? I  _ love  _ my hair.”

“I have no idea how you can see through it to shoot anything.”

“I don’t want my hair short,” McCree shook his head. “I happen to  _ like  _ my Jesus haircut, thank ya very much.” 

Gabe rolled his eyes. He didn’t banter any more, too busy thinking about the plan McCree had seemingly concocted all on his own. 

“McCree, seriously. You can’t just come up with shit on the fly, without asking me. I’m your commanding officer, you’re barely off of probation,” Gabe said sternly, eyes locked with McCree.

McCree looked as if he wasn’t expecting to be reprimanded for it, not that Gabe would consider it to be a reprimand. It was more of a reminder of where McCree’s place was in all of this, which would do him some good. He was young, and if he has too big of a head he could really fuck things up. 

“Sorry, sir,” McCree replied after a few moments. “It won’t happen again.”

Gabe ate his breakfast slowly, rolling the idea through his mind. If they were careful, and if McCree was a good actor, his base plan could work. McCree could wear a bug, as well as a nearly invisible earpiece that Gabe could speak to him through.McCree could mingle, and when people were drunk enough, could slip away and see if he could find anything of interest, and maybe take a couple pictures.

McCree’s cereal had been long gone by the time that Gabe turned to him.

“Alright, fine. You’re going in undercover, vaquero.”

McCree grinned. “I won’t let you down, sir. What’s the plan?”

 

~~~

 

Infiltrations normally didn’t make Gabriel this nervous. Infiltrations, when done correctly, were fast and easy. Stay undetected, get in, and get out. That was it. Of course, those were normally done as teams with extensive preparation, memorization, and at least three backup plans.

This infiltration was different, though. Agent McCree would be going in without a specific target. He would be seen and acknowledged by everyone, had no idea what the place looked like, and would be going in alone. Not only that, but it did not involve him carrying a gun.

“Alright, sir. How’s this look?”

Gabe turned away from untangling wires to look at McCree. He was freshly showered, hair brushed and dried. He was wearing a dark red t-shirt (his insistence) and black jeans. 

“You look like a normal kid going to a party,” Gabe said. “Now come over here, so I can attach this shit to you.”

McCree walked over and sat down in the chair next to Gabe. He put his hands in his lap, and glanced at all the wires. 

“I gotta wear all this?”

“No, just some of it. I was trying to find the things we needed and need them to be hooked up properly so I can hear what’s going on,” Gabriel explained. He had a laptop open, displaying a light blue screen with Athena’s logo blinking on it. 

Gabe grabbed a small piece that he had put aside earlier, and a pair of very skinny tweezers. He picked the small piece of metal up with the tweezers, and held it up to Jesse.

“This is an incognito earpiece. For missions like this, we put it deep enough in your ear that it is completely unnoticeable unless you’ve used it before and are staring into someone’s ear.” 

“You put that  _ in  _ my ear?”

“Yeah. It sticks to the ear canal and--”

“Stuck as in forever?”

Gabe blinked. “Yeah, forever,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Now come here, and let me put it in.”

McCree sighed and nodded. He tucked his hair behind his ear and turned his head. 

“Alright, stay still when I’m doing this. The tweezers will feel cold going into your ear, but don’t jump,” Gabe said.

“Alright, got it.”

Gabe leaned closer and put one hand on Jesse’s shoulder. McCree jumped under his touch.

“McCree! Don’t move,” Gabe barked.

“Sorry! Sorry!”

Gabe tried again, and this time, Jesse didn’t jump before he even inserted the tweezers. He only shivered a bit afterwards, reaching up to touch his ear.

“Eugh. I don’t like the feelin’ of anythin’ bein’ in there,” Jesse grunted.

“Yeah, well, I think you need a few Q-tips up there. You have enough ear wax in there to make a candle,” Gabe huffed. The tweezers were lightly coated in a sticky orange substance, which Gabe quickly put down and looked away from before he threw up.

Jesse stopped scratching at his ear and nodded. “Duly noted, boss.”

“Alright, now the bug needs to go under your shirt,” Gabriel said. He pulled out a thin piece of metal, and rubbed an adhesive on one side. He looked at McCree.

McCree looked back at him for a few moments, before realizing that he needed to pull up his shirt. He did so, and Gabe pasted it in the middle of his chest. McCree quickly pulled his shirt down.   
Gabe barely noticed the faint flush to his cheeks. “Right, so… I already connected the wires to these devices. There are tiny little detectors on the end of these that pick up your device, and relay its information back to this laptop, my ear piece, and Athena.”

McCree nodded. “That’s fancy as hell.”

Gabe pulled out a small rectangular piece. He showed it to McCree, then pulled the top off to reveal a different metal rectangle. 

“If you happen to find any computers, plug this into the USB spot and it will download all information on it and send it to Athena’s servers in a special little folder made just for this mission,” Gabe said. “Do not lose it. It goes both ways, if someone gets a hold of it, they could hypothetically trace it back to Athena and suddenly Overwatch is ruined. If you think you’re in danger, destroy it immediately. I cannot stress enough how bad it might be if this falls into the wrong hands.”

McCree nodded. He took the rectangle gingerly in his hand, and put it in his back pocket, where a pocket knife was stashed. Another one was stuck in his boot.

Gabe turned back to his laptop. He started checking to make sure everything was properly connected. He couldn’t explain the worry he was feeling.

“You think you can handle this, McCree?”

“Yessir,” McCree replied, smile in his voice. 

Gabe nodded. “Alright.”

 

~~~

 

“ _ Hey, Emilia. You are looking gorgeous, this evening.” _

Gabe held back the urge to roll his eyes.

Emilia giggled. “ _ And you look so handsome, Clint.” _

This time, Gabe really did roll his eyes. He had no idea why Jesse chose  _ Clint  _ as his cover, but he couldn’t change it now. It sounded American, he supposed, American to people that  _ weren’t  _ American at least.

They kept chatting, though it was nothing of much interest. McCree acted like they are on a date, which technically they  _ were.  _ He asked her casual questions about herself, like what her favorite food was and how many siblings she had. She kept answering them, talking up a storm and luckily not bothering to ask McCree many questions. 

Gabe listened carefully, seeing if she would accidentally spill anything interesting.

“ _ How the hell are you even getting into a party at this kinda place _ ,” McCree asked her. He did a good job acting like some over excited, young adult. Then again, that was what he was. Gabe was fairly sure McCree would be ecstatic to go to a party like this.

“ _ The guy who is throwing it is my brother.”  _

Gabe raised an eyebrow. That was interesting. 

“Ask her why she’s working at our hotel,” Gabe told the microphone in front of him.

“ _ So, why the hell do you work at this other hotel then?” _

_ “Oh, my family owns both of them. They own a lot of places around here, actually,”  _ she said, giggling. “ _ They don’t spend nearly as much time at that hotel though, so I kind of watch over things for them. And, I’m able to talk to handsome men like you without people being nosey.”  _

McCree chuckled, deep in his chest. The echoed in Gabe’s ear, made the hairs stand up on his arm for some bizarre reason.

The fact that she mentioned her parents having control of the hotel made Gabe raise an eyebrow. Overwatch had talked to the owners of the hotel, or at least, they thought they had. This was supposed to be a safe spot, where they could do their work. Unless, she didn’t really mean “own” in a legal sense.

“ _ Well, sweetheart, ain’t I just the luckiest man alive then?” _

“Tone it down, McCree,” Gabe snapped into the earpiece. More for  _ his  _ well being, rather than the mission’s. “And, be careful. I’m getting a bad vibe.”

He could hear Emilia giggling through the bug on McCree’s shirt. Then he heard shuffling, heard something shift and someone stumble.

“ _ Why don’t we take a little detour, hm?” _

Gabe rolled his eyes and groaned. Undercover missions like these were painful. More often than not, he was the one listening into them. The acting was cringey, made his whole body tense up in disgust. 

Emilia’s suggestive tone made him feel strange listening in, though he was far too professional to let that affect anything. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

McCree didn’t reply to her, and Gabe figured they must’ve taken that detour. There was a full minute of mostly silence and the occasional sound of clothes shifting, before there was a wet smacking sound and McCree’s voice came through again.

“ _ Why don’t we pick this up later, darling?” _

Emilia giggled again. 

Gabriel watched on the tracking device as McCree’s tiny location began moving again, towards La Playa Dorado. 

 

~~~

 

The first two hours of the party revealed nothing much. The bug on McCree was set up to pick up the sound of voices, as opposed to music, which was good, otherwise Gabe might be deaf. 

He could see through from the window that the party was packed. There were plenty of people dancing and drinking. The crowd was thick enough that Gabriel couldn’t see anything suspicious with the goggles, nor had he spotted McCree.

He had been listening to him talk with Emilia, socialize with others. He had already met her brother, whose name was apparently Armando Jimenez. Gabriel had Athena search records for that name whilst he listened to them talk casually.

Armando asked where McCree was from, and he told them California. He said that he was on break from college, and had always wanted to come to Cuba. He told them that his family had a good amount of money, and had happily sent him away for the week. 

“ _ You must have a lot too, Armando. Your suit is amazing. I love the white color,”  _ McCree had said casually. 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. So, this was White Pants from the other day, the one who was ordering people around. 

“ _ Oh, I do, I do. Rich parents and I  have my own business of sorts,”  _ the man said, sounding smug. 

Gabe huffed at that. What a “business” he had.

“ _ Oh, what sorta business?” _

Gabe cringed. He spoke into the earpiece. “Don’t make him suspicious, McCree. Stay away from that. You’re doing physical snooping, later.”

“ _ Eh, nothing you need to worry about, cowboy.”  _

Gabriel’s heart stopped. He stared at the screen, eyes wide. The way Armando put such emphasis on that word, and said it in English, made Gabe worry. 

McCree laughed casually. “ _ What do you mean, cowboy?” _

_ “Oh, nothing. It was nice meeting you, Clint. Take care of my sister.”  _

Emilia picked up conversation next to McCree. McCree talked with her, casually, but Gabe could hear the way his tone changed. He had become more guarded in his responses, a bit quieter.

“Has your cover been blown, McCree,” Gabriel asked.

McCree hadn’t worn his cowboy hat at all since he was here. In fact, Gabe had told him to leave it back at headquarters. It would draw too much attention, would make McCree all too memorable.

“ _ Oh, uh- nah. My parents were always distant,”  _ McCree said, replying to something Emilia had asked him. Gabe could imagine her hanging on his arm, smiling and talking to him longingly. 

McCree hadn’t said any code words back to Gabe in reply, and so Gabe figured everything was fine. Still, he was nervous. It might have just been a coincidence, but that was just  _ strange.  _ The only way they would’ve known about McCree’s nickname was if they listened in to their conversations-- either here or back at base. 

Gabriel went digging back in their bag for one of their bug detectors. It was a small, metal cylinder with a light on the top. He hit a button on the side, and set it in the middle of the room. It would scan in a twenty feet radius for any foreign technology that emitted radio frequencies or signals. It took a few minutes, though, so Gabe returned to what he was doing.

He used the goggles and looked back at the penthouse. He scanned over the exposed area, looking for McCree. It took a bit, but he found him, tucked into a bar area. There was a pretty lady sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder and talking animatedly. 

McCree was listening to her, or at least he looked like he was. From here, Gabe could see the way his eyes shifted over the room, looking around. They kept glancing over towards the right, where Gabe could see a hallway leading to a few doors.

“I have eyes on you. Is there something over there, McCree?” 

The hand on McCree’s lap briefly shifted into a thumbs up, before resting flat against his jeans again. 

“Check it out when you can,” Gabe told him.

McCree looked back over at Emilia now, fully giving her his attention. She had one hand up on his thigh, suggestively high. McCree didn’t look all that uncomfortable, but he was only brushing his knuckles up against her arm.

It was strange seeing McCree sitting with someone else like that. Gabe had no idea why it was, his other agents had had plenty of partners and had been  _ more  _ than touchy in front of him and he hadn’t even batted an eye.

“ _ Clint, I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be back in five minutes,”  _ Emilia told him. Gabe watched her squeeze his leg.

“ _ Alright, baby. Take your time.”  _

McCree waited until Emilia had disappeared into the crowd before standing and casually walking over towards the hallway on the right. Gabe watched his back, made sure nobody had seen him go.

McCree made it safely towards the hallway, and opened the first door on the right. He peeked inside and disappeared from Gabe’s view. 

“Alright, boss. What am I lookin’ for?”

“Any sort of technology, or even physical files,” Gabe replied. “How are you doing in there, McCree?”

“Fine. Nearly shit myself when Armando called me ‘cowboy’,” he said, voice a quiet murmur. “How would he-”

“I’m hoping it was a coincidence. I’m scanning the room for bugs right now,” Gabe told him as reassuringly as he could. 

“Other than y’all and Deadlock, nobody called me that,” McCree said. Gabe could hear him shuffling through things. “I don’t see nothin’ in here. Imma move onto the next room. You see Emilia lookin’ for me?”

“No,” Gabe said. He heard the scanning device ping behind him, and an automated voice informed him that no bugs were found. “No bugs in here.”

“Good. But that means…”

Deadlock. That… made a lot of sense.

“McCree, we might not be dealing with what we thought we were. I want you out of there, ASAP.”

“Jus’ a minute.”

Gabe watched McCree exit the room and go in through the next doorway. 

“Oooh, jackpot. It’s a bedroom. I found some important looking envelopes and opened letters,” McCree said. 

Gabe groaned. “McCree--”

“I’m alright, boss. I swear.”

“Fine, hurry. Fold them and tuck them into your boot. Don’t worry about creases,” Gabe said. He made sure to keep checking for Emilia. “I want you out of there. Now.”

“Did anybody look familiar to you, McCree?”

“Nah,” McCree said. “Then again, haven’t had much of a chance to look at much. Emilia has been on my dick all goddamn night.” 

“I think that was what she was planning for later,” Gabriel said jokingly. He put the goggles down and glanced at the laptop screen. Athena had come up with something for the name “Armando Jimenez.”

Apparently, he was in the gang database. He was a known dealer, part of a low scale empire of sorts. His last name matched up with the rich family that was funding a lot of Venom’s escapades. There wasn’t much on him, and it was almost as if parts of the files written about him were missing. 

McCree snorted. “Sucks for her.”

“Alright, uh, no laptop. I’m gonna check the next ro- Oh Jesus Christ!”

Gabe looked away from the screen. He picked up the goggles, and looked back at the penthouse. The door McCree had gone into was open, and he watched as the form of Emilia stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

“McCree? McCree, what happened?”

“ _ Clint, what’re you doing in here?” _

Gabe heard another voice. It sounded quieter, as if it was from further away. 

“ _ I was just looking around. This place is gorgeous. Maybe my parents would like to invest in a place like this,”  _ McCree replied, chuckling. “ _ Sorry, I should have asked for a tour later.” _

_ “You should have,”  _ Emilia replied. Her tone wasn’t nearly as cheery or friendly as it normally was. “ _ Were you talking to somebody?” _

_ “Besides myself, nah,”  _ McCree said. Gabe could hear his efforts to lay on as much charm as he can. “ _ Now that we’re alone, darling, I was thinking that maybe we could have a bit of fun, hm?” _

Gabe listened carefully to their words. McCree should’ve listened to him the first time when he told him to get out, another thing he would have to talk to him about. Maybe Gabe  _ was  _ going too easy on him. 

“McCree. This isn’t-- I want you out. Right now. This is an order,” Gabe commanded into the mic. 

“ _ Oh, that’s such a good idea, Clint! What did you have in mind?”  _ Her voice had dropped, more seductively than her initial tone. It still wasn’t quite right though.

“McCree, I don’t trust this,” he said.

“ _ Well, maybe you should come over here, sweetheart. I can show you better than I can tell you.” _

There was a pause, then the sound of shuffling and movement. Emilia’s voice was much louder when she replied.

“ _ Is that so, cowboy?” _

It was quiet for a bit on the other line. Gabe felt his stomach sink. Something wasn’t right. 

“McCree, you need to leave. As soon as possible.Knock her out if you have too. This isn’t--”

“ _ You know, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me,”  _ Emilia said, her voice low. “ _ I’m surprised you were stupid enough to pull a stunt like this.” _

Gabriel swallowed thickly. 

“McCree, you need to destroy that drive you have. Do you understand me? Destroy it  _ now.”  _

“ _ Maybe I did recognize you, sweetheart,”  _ McCree retorted. He was now more smug than charming, with just an edge of seriousness.” _ I’m surprised you didn’t realize I did.”  _

Gabe sat back in his chair, cursed as loudly as he could. He put the goggles on again and watched as the party went on like normal. Nobody seemed to move to join the two of them in the room.

In that room, it seemed as if McCree was just ignoring him. He hadn’t uttered a single codeword, hadn’t given any sign that he even thought about listening to Gabe’s orders. 

“ _ You know, when Deadlock got wiped out, we held a big party. Bigger than this one.” _

_ “In our honor? How sweet of you.” _

_ “We heard that Overwatch obliterated you, how did you survive? We saw Mitchell’s corpse, littered with bullets, rotting away in the river. Who’s in charge now, huh?”  _

_ “Oh, I couldn’t tell you that now, could I?” _

_ “You can. You will,”  _ Emilia spat. Gabe heard the telltale sound of a gun’s safety turning off. 

“ _ Oh, you gotta pay the price for that. Lemme go, and maybe I’ll be in touch.” _

_ “I don’t think so,”  _ Emilia said. “ _ You know, we heard the conversation with whoever you’re talking to. Your commander? Who is it?” _

“McCree, tell her it’s Tara Jackson. We arrested her, didn’t kill her. Names weren’t released to the media.”

“ _ Jackson is in charge now,”  _ McCree said. “ _ I can tell you more, but you have to give me a sign you won’t be pulling that trigger any time soon. Put it down, honey. That’s right, thank you.” _

So he  _ was  _ listening, only when it was convenient, apparently.

_ “You know, our people can track down wherever Jackson is, right now if we wanted. We could wipe you out for good,”  _ Emilia said. “ _ Or maybe, you can tell Jackson that we want to cut a deal.” _

_ “Oh, we could do that,”  _ McCree said, Gabe could hear the smirk in his voice. “ _ You are gonna have to make sure I leave here alive though, tonight.” _

_ “Or, I could use you as a bargaining chip,”  _ Emilia hummed. “ _ Your life for whatever Deadlock can give us. Or, I could just blow your brains out right now and-” _

Emilia’s speech was cut off by the sound of gurgling. There was shuffling, then the sound of a body hitting the floor. 

“Commander,” McCree called. He sounded out of breath, his voice just a bit shakey. “Holy shit, what the fuck. I just pulled all that outta my ass.”

“McCree you need to get the fuck out, is what you need to do. In the next room over, there’s a fire escape.”

Gabriel saw him exit the room through the goggles, then practically throw open the door in the next room. Instead of walking in, though, he hesitated. He seemed to reach for the knife in his pocket, then practically fell into the room. The door slammed shut behind him. Gabe put down the goggles.

“Oh shi--”

There was a loud sound of crackling static. Gabe’s eyes widened.

“McCree?”

On the laptop screen before him, Gabe watched the strength of their connection falter. The sound of static filled the headset he was wearing, then a muffled grunt and a shout. Then a gunshot rang out, echoing not only through the headset but the courtyard between the hotels themselves.

“McCree! Goddammit!”

The connection cut off abruptly, loud static the only thing remaining.

Gabriel went to the communications on the screen, calling for an urgent pickup. 

“Athena, what happened to Agent McCree’s comms,” Gabe asked the AI. She was always listening when these sorts of equipment was being used, always recording.

“The connection was lost abruptly. An unknown source intercepted it and cut it off,” Athena replied. Her soothing, automated voice irritated him. 

“Well, what intercepted it?”

“I will track the source now.” A few moments later, she spoke again. “It is coming from somewhere in La Playa Dorado, Commander Reyes.”

“Does it know where we are?”

“I am not sure, Commander Reyes. Additionally, there are unread messages waiting for you.”

Gabe read the messages. A transport would be picking them up from where they were dropped off at 0300 the next morning. That was five hours away. 

“Tell them it needs to be here sooner.”

“Yes, Commander Reyes. Anything else?”

“No, tha-”

There were three harsh knocks at the door. Gabe turned to stare at it. He had specifically told them not to come up here.

“Leave!” He shouted.

There were three more harsh knocks, and as Gabe moved to stand up it was followed by three kicks, strong enough to rattle the entire door frame.

Gabe quickly moved over towards where their weapons were stashed. He saw McCree’s, his god-awful revolver tucked beneath a few shirts. Gabe retrieved one of his shotguns and a hunting knife.

He moved as quietly as he could through the room, sliding into the bathroom and hiding behind the open door. The room was dark, and from where he stood he could see the mirror which gave him a good view of the door.

The door was kicked a few more times, before it suddenly went quiet. The quiet lingered for far too long, and then Gabe heard two awful sounds. The first, was the sound of the sliding glass door on the balcony being slid open. The second, was the sound of the lock on the front door unlocking and opening.

Gabe watched through the mirror as two people entered. They were both armed, though neither of them were dressed in any armor whatsoever. 

They were looking at the other side of the room.

“ _ Where are they?” _

_ “I don’t see anybody,”  _ a voice from the other side of the room replied. It must be the person that came in through the balcony.

Gabe watched as one of the people that came through the front door walked further into the room. The other, opened the closet door across from the bathroom. They then turned towards the bathroom. Gabriel tucked himself further behind the door.

The voices on the other side of the room kept talking. “ _ This is a lot of tech for a gang that was wiped out.” _

_ “Yeah. Maybe it isn’t Deadlock like we thought. Look around.” _

The person entered the bathroom, gun at their side as opposed to held up. Gabe waited until they walked in further before quickly coming behind them and shoving his knife through their throat while his other hand covered their mouth.

The person let out a gurgle, as their body went limp in Gabe’s arms. Gabe carefully set the body down, minimizing the noise as much as he possibly could.

He heard the other people continue to speak casually.

“ _ This is some crazy shit,”  _ one of them whistled. “ _ Wow, hey. Check out this laptop.” _

Gabe moved quietly. He peaked around the bathroom door, and saw the two intruders. Both of them were crouched down, staring at the laptop. One of them started typing on it.

He approached them as quietly as he could. He was happy he had taken of his boots, which made him as quiet as he could be.

He got up right behind them, and raised his shotgun up to the one on the left’s head. The one on the right had sat in his seat, and was now clicking through the laptop.

“ _ Wait, is this Overwa-” _

Gabe pulled the trigger. The sound was loud, made his ears ring in this tiny little room. The intruder’s head was nearly blown off, blood splattering everywhere.

The other enemy turned in shock, holding up their gun. Gabe was quicker, shifting his wrist and pulling the trigger. The other intruder slumped back against the table.

Gabe took a few steps back, and took a deep breath.  _ Shit.  _

He had only a few moments to gather his bearings, as an alarm started blaring only seconds after his shot went off. 

Gabe moved on autopilot, moving everything into the bags as quickly as he possibly could. He moved any important items, such as the technology and the weapons into one bag, and left the clothes scattered on the floor. 

He grabbed all of McCree’s things. He had left his tablet behind, still open to a scene paused in one of the movies he had been watching.  He made sure to grab every last thing before zipping it up and pulling it over his shoulder. He slipped on his shoes and moved out onto the balcony, and then to the fire escape.

That room would be swarmed within minutes; the hotel circle within an hour.

The transport was supposed to pick them up a few miles away, in the forest to the east where it had dropped them off. Once he got to the bottom of the ladder, he sent McCree a message on his comms to head to their drop off. He could only hope that McCree would be able to read it.

 

~~~

 

Gabe had been sitting around for four hours now. He was leaning up against a tree, right around where their transport had dropped them off. 

He had hoped that McCree was still alive, that he would’ve shown up an hour or two ago. He would be a little banged up, but still smiling his charming smile. 

Gabe was losing that hope by the minute. His chest was filled with more grief than he had expected. He hadn’t known Agent McCree for long. He had still been on probation just a few months ago. He had taken to Blackwatch quite well though, and had grown on Gabe quite a bit too. That should have been expected of course, what with the private trainings at night and the smoke breaks and the private chats and the--

Gabe cursed. He had gotten too invested in McCree. 

He was invested in all of his agents, and had gotten close to all of them. It was part of the charm of Blackwatch. They were all so close to each other, constantly pressed together in intimate situations. Gabe had seen nearly every side of all of his agents in Blackwatch. Hell, he knew most of their parents. 

The last time they had lost an agent was months ago, right after McCree had joined. It had been heartbreaking, had put them all in a sour mood for quite awhile. It had them resenting Jack Morrison, had them resenting Overwatch as a whole even more than it had before. 

This wasn’t Overwatch’s fault though. If Jesse McCree was dead (he must be, he had to be), then it wasn’t Overwatch’s fault this time. It was Gabe’s fault. Jack Morrison had been the one to tell Gabe that he shouldn’t take Jesse, even if it was for different reasons. 

He had let Jesse go in there alone, untrained for those sorts of situations. Jesse hadn’t listened to his orders to leave, though that might’ve been an issue on Gabe’s part as well. He had been too lenient, hadn’t realized that perhaps Jesse didn’t realize what sort of situations he was in. It didn’t make sense though, for Jesse to just suddenly decide that he didn’t have to listen to his commander. On other missions, he had behaved fine.

Gabe groaned. He stared up at the sky through gaps in the trees. The stars were shining bright above, no light pollution to take away from their beauty. He remembered just a few nights ago, Jesse smiling at the sky and reminiscing of one of the few moments he enjoyed in Deadlock.

Gabe looked at his watch. Five minutes until estimated pick up. He cursed, loudly. He felt he was allowed to.

He had put so much effort into Jesse McCree. Gabe fought for Jesse to become a member in Blackwatch. He asked Ana to help train him personally, had given him personal combat lessons at night. They had spent Christmas Eve together. They had such personal conversations that, now thinking back on it, helpful to Gabe as well as Jesse.

Gabe heard the sound of rustling bushes behind him. He turned, pulling his guns from their holsters at his sides. 

He glared into the darkness, waiting for a line of gang members to run out and surround him. Instead, however, he watched a single dark silhouette stumble from the bushes.

A single ray of moonlight hit the figure, and then more light. 

“Jesse!”

Gabe holstered his guns and moved forward, not in a run but in quite a fast walk. 

Jesse practically fell into Gabe’s arms, leaning heavily against him. 

“C-Commander,” Jesse garbled, then mumbled some other nonsense against Gabe’s neck.

“McCree, are you injured?”

As he asked, Gabe pressed his fingers against Jesse’s side. He felt something wet and sticky under his fingers.

“Sh-shot,” McCree slurred. “Jus’ a g-graze, I think.”

Gabe was about to have him sit down, when lights from above shined down on them. Wind picked up in the forest, and a low humming could now be heard. 

Gabe looked up to see the transport, landing down about ten feet in front of them.

“C’mon, McCree. Let’s get up into the air and I’ll check you out.”

“W-Wait, I g-got somethin,” McCree said. He started digging in one of his pockets and pulled out the metal rectangle drive that Gabe had given him. “I f-found somethin’ in there.”

Gabe took the drive from him. “Good work, McCree. Now come on.”

In front of them, the transport was landing down and the doors were opening. 

 

~~~

 

Marsh was on board the transport, as well as Huber. They helped Gabe get McCree inside, then immediately took off. 

Marsh took the time to look over McCree’s injuries as best as he could. McCree’s claim that it was just a graze couldn’t have been further from the truth. The pullet had gone clean through his left side, tearing through muscle. Marsh had no way to assess if it had hit anything important.

He wrapped it up as best as he could, and they did their best to make McCree comfortable.

“McCree, what the hell happened?”

“Some guys were waitin’ in there,” McCree said. His words were still slurred together, more collected than before but still out of it. At least he wasn’t in pain anymore, Marsh had done him the favor of administering a pain reliever that would take the bite out of it until they were back at headquarters.

“Turns out, I’m better at that fightin’ shit than you think, Commander. Either that, or they were absolute garbage,” McCree huffed. He had the gall to smile at Gabe, as if he weren’t bleeding out.

“What’s your body count,” Gabe asked.

“Three, not including Emilia.”

“So four,” Marsh said to him. He was practically hovering over McCree, though Gabe supposed it  _ was  _ his job. The way he did it, though, was a bit softer than one might expect. 

“Yup,” McCree chuckled. The sound got caught in his throat. “So, am I gon’ die?”

“No,” Marsh replied. “You’re lucky we care about you, cowboy.” 

Gabe watched on, amusement in his eyes. He met Marsh’s gaze, thought that Marsh looked a bit embarrassed. He hadn’t realized that the two of them were close, then again it might’ve been a recent development. 

“Y’know, Commander,” McCree spoke up. He tried to sit up, only for Marsh to push him back down. “They said they saw us, showed me a video of us in that alleyway. Looked like we were kissin’.” McCree said it with a giggle, looked absolutely out of it.

Marsh raised an eyebrow at Gabe.

Gabe shook his head. “We didn’t--”

“I don’t wanna know, Commander.”

“We didn’t.”

 

~~~

 

“Oh, Jesus Christ Jess! You scared the everloving shit out of me!”

Andersson practically tackled McCree, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tight.

McCree chuckled. He looked down at her with a charming smile.

“Aw, didja miss me?”

“I thought you were dead, you idiot,” she snapped. 

Gabe was watching from the Blackwatch kitchen. He decided to take it upon himself to make dinner tonight, after getting out of the medbay and glimpsing at the paperwork waiting for him on his desk. He would have meeting after endless meeting for the next couple days, and really needed to do something that wasn’t work related.

Marnie had abandoned her post in the kitchen chopping vegetables, joining the others to go see McCree. 

“Who told you that?”

“Jesse you got shot! Commander walked you into the transport covered in  _ your  _ blood.” 

“It was jus’ a graze,” Jesse told her.

“I  _ saw  _ the bullet hole,” Andersson insisted. She shoved a finger into his chest. “I can’t believe you almost died.”

“You weren’t there!”

“Marsh took pictures,” Andersson explained.

McCree looked over at Marsh. “Why?”

Marsh shrugged. “For memories.”

The other Blackwatch agents came up to tell Jesse that they were glad he wasn’t dead. He tried to act nonchalant about it, despite the fact that he had been smiling like an dope the entire time.

He seemed to only be close enough with Andersson, Marnie, and Napoleon to warrant hugs. It wasn’t difficult to get hugs from Napoleon, though. He was a touchy guy.  Even then, Huber had gave him a pat on the back and leaned into whisper something to him. It made Jesse smile a bit and nod at him, mumble something back to him.

They had all sat down around the mismatched table to listen to Jesse regail the story of his first undercover mission. He talked as dramatically as expected, exaggerating just about everything that he could.

Gabe watched on with amusement, glancing up at him whilst keeping at eye on the food. He didn’t bother to correct him, let McCree have his little moment.

Nearly every agent was out at the table, listening to him talk. The only ones who weren’t here were on missions. Gabe smiled. This was good for McCree, meant that most of Blackwatch must be at the very least accepting of his existence here. 

 

~~~

 

“Fancy seein’ you here,” McCree said.

Gabe glanced back at him, smiled. McCree was walking up to him, cowboy hat perched atop his head. He was wearing cowboy boots, and Gabe honestly wasn’t expecting anything less. It was good to see him dressed like he normally was. Or at least, “normal” for social outings that required shoes and actual pants. Normally around the Blackwatch Wing, McCree wore pajamas and socks.

It was cold tonight. Gabe could barely feel it settling into his fingertips, but even then it barely affected him. The SEP had done something to him, made his natural body temperature far higher than it should be. Any normal doctor who had no idea of his condition would be mortified.

McCree stepped up beside him, leaned up against the rails. Gabe watched up look over the side of the roof, then up at the sky.

“Y’know, there are only two things I actually hate about being here.”

Gabe huffed. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“The cold weather and the lack of stars,” McCree mumbled. “Y’know, at least back in Cuba there were a few. And walking to the transport, in the forest, there were millions. Here, there’s jack shit.”

Gabe nodded. “And the cold?”

He noticed the faint shaking of McCree’s hands, the pinkness of his face.

“I just fuckin’ hate it. Wasn’t made for it,” McCree shrugged. Then, he gestured at Gabe. “Meanwhile, you’re jus’ wearin’ a long sleeve shirt and ain’t even shakin’.”

“SEP fucked me up in a few good ways too,” Gabe laughed. 

“Well, ain’t you lucky,” McCree grumbled. His jealousy was exaggerated, as a sweet, playful smile followed his words.

“In a way. Did you come out here to ask for a cigarette?”

“Nah, jus’ to talk with you,” McCree replied. He smiled again. Something was different, the way he looked at Gabe. Gabe couldn’t figure it out. “Did they find anything good on that drive?”

“Apparently. We’ll find out in the ten-hour meeting tomorrow,” Gabe joked. 

McCree laughed. “Damn, sure hope it ain’t ten hours. I’ll quit right here and now.” 

“You did an exceptional job in that mission, McCree. I thought you were dead.”

McCree stared at him for a bit, his face screwed up in a way that showed he didn’t know what to say.

“I- I guess I thought I was too. I jus’, I didn’t wanna die,” McCree said. “I don’t remember much after I climbed out the window. I jus’ woke up in the medbay with Doctor Ziegler lookin’ down at me.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t make you stay longer,” Gabe commented. “That doesn’t really even count as overnight, since we didn’t get in until this morning.”

“The bullet didn’t hit nothin’ important and went straight through. Jus’ needed some stitches and some of that glowy shit.”

“How long are you off duty?”

“Uh, two an’ a half weeks. Imma try to ask her for earlier, though. Cuz, that’s an awful long time to be outta commission. I’ll be bored as hell,” McCree complained.

“I think you should take the time off,” Gabe suggested. “We’ll be in lots of meetings, they’re going to ask you questions. Probably about how you were involved with Venom before.”

“That’ll be classified, right?”

Gabe nodded. “Probably just Morrison will want to know. And Amari. We’ll cover for you, don’t worry. Higher-ups don’t want to get involved in our bullshit.” 

“I don’t think the Strike-Commander wants me here.”

“Well, he can’t do anything about it. I think he’s going to change whatever opinion he had, after this mission, though.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Gabe said. “You should also just take the time off the relax. That was a stressful mission, seemed to hit close to home.”

McCree looked away from Gabe at that. He nodded. “Yup. Dunno why I’m surprised.”

“I’m going to try and keep you out of Americas from now on, vaquero. Don’t worry about it.”

McCree smiled. “I don’t mind. Maybe I can go one day without worrying ‘bout some mission.”

“Maybe.”

“Also,” Gabe said. He looked over at McCree. “You pull a stunt like that again, and I’m going to have to punish you for it. You blatantly ignored my orders in there. You could’ve died.”

McCree nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Guess I jus’, well I dunno.”

“Yeah, so, cut that shit off. If you want me to trust you going on missions, you need to know how to listen. You’re smart, you should know when it’s time to make your own decisions and when it’s time to do what you’re told.”

McCree grinned at him, a devilish smirk that only McCree would be brave enough to throw at Gabe. “Yessir.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyy.... i barely reread this... im tired. im sorry. aghghghghhhhhhh it's really really short but cute y'know ayyyyyyyyyyyyy help okay enjoy bye.  
> (talk to me on tumblr or something im at smolcactusgay)

Jesse had kind of claimed the rooftop as his own. He’d spent many a night up there, mostly on his own, sneaking cigarettes and alcohol from the “secret” stash in Blackwatch’s pantry. After a year and a half, the polluted night skies and faint noise pollution had grown on him.

If he was ever feeling just a bit too stressed, he would bring a blanket and hang around until the cold started getting to him. 

He’d been in Blackwatch for almost two years, and to say it was amazing would be an understatement. It was nice waking up everyday with something worthwhile to do, whether it be a life-saving mission or just a day of training. He had friends too, people that seemed to genuinely care about him despite where he came from and what he’s done.

For his twentieth birthday, Marnie had baked him one of the best cakes he’d ever eaten in his life. He stayed up late with Marnie, Marsh, and Andersson, drinking and playing cards. Huber joined them later in the night, and actually managed to get a few drinks in him. Turned out he was a lightweight, and it was funnier than all hell listening to him tell stories about when he was younger.

He must’ve said something embarrassing about his crush on Reyes too, because the next day there was a message from Marsh saying some comforting bullshit about unrequited love. Jesse couldn’t look him in the eye for two days.

Even with the embarrassing bullshit, it was nice.

It was after a particularly long mission that Jesse found himself out on the rooftop again. He was laying on his back, staring at the sky, trying to imagine what the stars would look like. 

Jesse was trying not to remember the sight of Andersson getting shoved off the side of the building, the sickening thump of her body hitting the gravel and Marnie’s agonized scream echoing through the comms. 

She was alright, the last time he had heard. Marnie had been sending him updates through his comms, which he appreciated. The mission, wasn’t so alright though. Since Andersson was in critical condition and Marsh couldn’t do a lot without any medical equipment, they had to make a run for it and head home early. Reyes had looked pissed about the situation, and Jesse couldn’t blame him.

So, Jesse stared at the sky. He closed his eyes, tried to picture the stars up above Santa Fe. He tried to remember what it felt like to have the dry breeze in his lungs, but the memories didn’t give it justice. It had been a while…

His eyes snapped open at the sound of the door to the rooftop opening. The metal must of been rusty or something, because it always squeaked louder than all hell. Jesse sat up a bit and looked back at the door.

Reyes stood there, frozen like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Jesse smiled softly.

“Hey there, boss.”

Reyes hesitated, before he took a few steps forward and closed the door behind him. His heavy boots scraped against the cement, and he stopped a few feet away from where Jesse had been sprawled out.

“I didn’t know you came up here by yourself,” Reyes said. 

“It’s nice to clear my head,” Jesse explained, then glanced up at the sky as if it was further explanation. “Even if I can’t see the stars it’s still so open, nice to look at while gettin’ drunk.”

Reyes smiled just a bit. “Mind if I join you?”

Jesse sat up fully and scooted over to make room on the blanket he had spread out. He patted the free space next to him.

Reyes gingerly sat down and situated himself, even if the blanket didn’t give much room for two men of their size to sprawl out. In the end they were pressed shoulder to shoulder, staring at the sky. 

Jesse flushed at the contact, even though internally he blamed it out the alcohol and the cold breeze. His crush had intensified over the past two years, peaking at some strange sort of real strong feeling of fondness and constantly wanting to be around him. 

“You’re like a space heater.”

Reyes huffed out a laugh. “I’ve heard that before. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s nice,” Jesse said. He then fumbled. “Uh, like-- like cuz it’s cold, y’know? So it’s-- it’s nice.”

Jesse glanced over and saw that Reyes was doing the same, raising an eyebrow with questioning look gracing his features. “Ahuh.”

Jesse couldn’t tell if Reyes knew about his feelings or not. It was just about one of the most nerve-wracking feelings on the planet. 

“Shut up,” Jesse grumbled, quickly looking back at the sky.

“You’re lucky I don’t have a stick up my ass, vaquero. I could get you demoted for talking to your commander like that.”

“You wouldn’t demote me. I’m too good.”

“That’s what you think,” Reyes said. “I would exchange you for someone who talked less and wasn’t such a fucking hotshot.”

“Listen, if I shoot as good as I can, why the hell shouldn’t I be proud of it?”

“That isn’t pride, McCree. That’s called being an asshole.”

Jesse put a hand over his heart, fake gasping. “Don’t insult me like that, Commander.”

Reyes chuckled. “Don’t do things that can be insulted, then.”

Jesse smiled at the sound of his laugh. “I think I can make ya laugh more than anyone else.”

Reyes tilted his head in thought, then shook his head. “You haven’t met my sister. She’s almost as obnoxious as you, but her humor makes up for it.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s the youngest. Uh… twenty-four? She’s the baby in the family. Just graduated college.”

“Wow. What’d she study?”

“Engineering stuff, I don’t know what specifically. Impressive shit, though. We’re all really proud of her.”

“Did you go to college,” Jesse asked.

“No. Straight to the army, and then here,” Reyes said. 

“Do you wish you did?”

“Sometimes,” he answered shortly. 

“What was your favorite subject in school?”

“Uh, history. I loved that shit,” he chuckled. “Everyone else hated it, but I always was really good at remembering dates and names and who did what. It was really interesting to learn about how the world came to be.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Jesse said. “I don’t think I was old enough to think of history that way, or really any subject as anythin’ other than necessity. I liked P.E. I remember kickin’ the other kids’ asses at soccer.”

“Oh, you like soccer?”

“I mean I did then, a lot. I think it was one of those things me an’ my dad did together,” Jesse explained. 

Reyes nodded. “How are you holdin’ up?” The nostalgic and casual feeling hovering over them faded into something more serious. Jesse was forced to remember the shitty events of the previous day, and frowned.

“In general? Or with the Andersson shit?”

“Both.”

Jesse let out a deep breath. “In general? Pretty damn good. With the Andersson shit-- not the best. Can’t remember the last time I’ve been so concerned ‘bout someone dyin’. Normally on missions it don’t ever get that close.”

“Andersson’s a tough cookie.”

“She got thrown off a roof,” Jesse said. “I feel even worse for Marnie. They’re so much closer, jus’ the look on her face got me worked up.”

Jesse took a deep shuddering breath. “Somethin’ occurred to me, a bit ago. So, y’know like-- I seen death since I was a kid. I killed since I was a kid. It’s never bothered me. But y’know-- I don’t think I ever been worried about someone dyin’. Like-- in Deadlock? It was nothin’. I didn’t really care ‘bout nobody, never got close to nobody. But Andersson, she’s like an older sister or some shit. An’ everyone-- they mean a lot to me. An’ I don’t think I’ve ever cared so much about someone dyin’ before. Even my Ma, I barely remember her. I know I was sad, but I think I was jus’ scared more than anythin’. Now I’m terrified, because everyone means so much to me. I don’t wanna think about what it’d be like if they were gone.”

As Jesse finished speaking, he felt Reyes put a warm hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at him, and was surprised to see him look a bit shocked. He looked morose, more than anything else though. He looked like he was about to deliver bad news.

“That’s… that’s the downside to caring for people. You don’t want them to leave your life, and when they do… that part of your life is gone,  Reyes said. “There’s not many ways to get around it, and in this line of work-- it’s bound to happen sometime. You’ve been lucky, McCree. I don’t think anyone has died since… well since last month. But you didn’t know him. Maybe you’re a good luck charm or something, but I don’t believe in that shit. It’s bound to happen sometime, and it’s going to suck. There’s no way to prepare yourself for it, either, mind you.”

Jesse blinked. “Gee, that sure was comfortin’, Commander,” Jesse laughed, partially in effort to break the tension.

Reyes smiled back at him. “The truth is better than fluffy bullshit, nearly every single time.”

Jesse sighed. “I agree.”

They lapsed into silence again, and Jesse stared at Reyes just a bit longer. It was dark up here, and the faint lights were old and barely illuminated them. Jesse could just barely see his features, and he was so tempted to lean forward to feel them against his skin. He didn’t though, of course. 

Reyes cleared his throat and looked away after sometime. 

Jesse finally asked. “So, how much paperwork do you have?”

Reyes groaned. “A lot.”

“Is there a way I could help you with it?”

“Huh, uh-- not entirely sure. A lot of it is on my computer but...you could always staple shit together for me. It’s boring as fuck.”

“I don’t mind. I need somethin’ to distract myself with tonight.”

 

~~~

Jesse woke up in the morning with his face plastered to a cold, hard surface. He sat up and yawned, rubbed at his cheek and was disgusted to find drool leaking from the corner of his mouth.

He looked around and realized that he was still in Reyes’ office. He looked down at the desk in front of him and scrunched up his nose at the puddle of drool that had crept onto some of the papers he was stapling. He quickly wiped it off with his sleeve and shifted the papers away.

He glanced up and saw that Reyes’ chair was empty. Looking out the windows in his office, it still looked to be dark, which probably meant it was very early in the morning.

Jesse looked around the office and spotted Reyes sprawled out on a tiny little sofa he’d gotten for his office recently. He was facing the back of it, and his legs looked like they were uncomfortably hanging off the edge.

Jesse got up as quietly as he could, assisted by the fact that he had taken his shoes off two hours in to assisting Reyes with stapling and organizing files. He walked around to the other side of the desk and looked at the time on the computer, four in the morning. Jesse yawned and looked back over at Reyes. He wasn’t about to wake him up. 

Jesse sat down in Reyes’ chair and practically melted. It was  _ very  _ comfortable, far more comfortable than the plastic shit that he had been sitting in for what felt like ages. He fell asleep in that nearly immediately, face awkwardly angled back so he could smush his cheek against the fabric of the chair. It tipped back just enough so it felt comfortable.

 

~~~

“Hey, so, why were you walking back from Reyes’ office at like… six in the morning? And why weren’t you in your room last night?”

“I was helpin’ him with paperwork,” Jesse explained. He glared at Marsh from across the table, a piece of toast halfway to his lips. “Stop lookin’ at me like that.”

“I’m just… curious… is all,” Marsh said with a shrug. He leaned back in his chair, nursing a cup of tea. “I don’t think Reyes has ever asked anyone for help with paperwork.”

“I offered,” Jesse said. “And I figured he could use the company. Don’t think he felt the best after what happened on the mission, either, y’know.”

“Mhm,” Marsh hummed. “Andersson is staying in the medbay for a few days. They want to keep an eye on her back.”

“It that serious?”

“With spinal issues, yeah. Even modern medicine is a little bit wary with that sort of stuff.” 

Jesse hummed. He took a few bites of his eggs. “I hate this. Nobody knows how to cook. Where the hell is Reyes when you need him.”

“I did not mess up scrambled eggs  _ that  _ badly,” Marsh scoffed. 

“Y’know you gotta put like, salt in ‘em, yeah?”

“Yes, I do,” Marsh snapped. “You know you aren’t supposed to insult the person that is gonna be feeding you for the next couple days, yeah?”

Jesse chuckled. “Alright, alright. Sorry. Don’t poison me, please.”

“No promises.”

The door to the Blackwatch Wing opened then, and Commander Reyes strolled in. He looked at Marsh and Jesse at the table and stopped.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Went out for breakfast because Marsh was cooking,” Jesse explained as he took another bite of his eggs.

Reyes chuckled whilst Marsh gasped.

Reyes walked over to the kitchen to start dishing himself some food.

“I’ll just let you starve tomorrow, Jesse. How about that?”

“It ain’t hard to make a bowl of cereal,” Jesse shrugged. 

“If you get shot next mission, I’m going to let you bleed out.”

Reyes came over and took a seat next to Jesse, putting down a plate and a cup of coffee. He piled on a considerably larger pile of eggs than Jesse dared, and took a sip of his coffee.

“Andersson is awake and functioning,” he reported. “I wouldn’t visit, though. Marnie looks like she’s about to jump her.”

Jesse made a face. “Eugh. Don’t wanna think about it.”

“They’re both gorgeous women,” Marsh commented.

“Yeah, but like-- Andersson jus’ taught me how to iron my clothes and Marnie taught me how to braid hair. They’re like my sisters.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” Marsh cooed. “I should tell Andersson you said that.”

“She’s the one that called me the little brother she never had first, so, go for it,” Jesse shrugged. “I hate it when it’s quiet in here in the morning. I almost prefer the arguin’ ‘bout soccer and The Bachelorette.”

“That’s a good fucking show, Jesse. Don’t you dare,” Marsh threatened. “First my eggs and now Barbara and her potential lovers.”

“She ain’t even that pretty. There, I said it.”

Reyes chuckled. “I see you makin’ googly eyes at tall, dark, and handsome, though.”

“Who? Max? Yeah, well, he’s a damn Greek God in human form and everyone knows it,” Jesse huffed defensively. “I don’t want him to win, cuz then he’ll be off the market.”

“I can’t believe that show still exists,” Reyes laughed. “I can’t believe reality shows still exist.”

“Humans are simple minded creatures who are amused by fake drama and fake noses,” Marsh shrugged. “What can I say, it’s a guilty pleasure.”

Jesse scoffed. 

They ate the rest of their mildly offensive breakfast while chatting casually about reality stars and the drama that comes with it. It was nice, all things considered. 

Jesse, for his part, munched on toast more than the eggs. He’d attempted to lather them in ketchup, and found that it was of no help.

He sat back for the most of it, and tried not to focus on how close Reyes was sitting next to him. He was trying not to think illogically, just that the chairs were close together to start off with and if their legs had been touching this whole time it’d be too weird to move away now. 

He smiled and laughed along with Reyes and Marsh, sipping on orange juice and hanging on Reyes’ every smile.

 

~~~

“I dunno how you do paperwork every night like this,” Jesse groaned. “I hate stackin’ shit, I can’t imagine how you feel doin’ like… everythin’ else.”

Reyes laughed. “It’s just a lot, and it’s tedious. I appreciate your help.”

It’s become somewhat a part of his routine. Jesse would come in to Reyes’ office sometimes while he was working, and there would be a stack of paper on the corner of his desk that he could organize into folders or staple. Despite the fact that nearly everything was kept in online files and databases, and as much as Reyes despised it, some things still needed to be done on paper. It was impossible to hack physical files.

“Yeah, it’s aight. It’s not too bad, y’know.”

“You just said you hated it.”

“Yeah, but there are other factors that don’t make it terrible.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one, I can get out of watching The Bachelorette.”

Reyes laughed. “Ahuh.”

“And, it ain’t awful hanging out with my CO.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, contrary to popular belief-- you are a pretty okay. guy to be around,” Jesse teased. He glanced up from his papers and smiled. Through the holo screen, he could see the faint grin on Reyes’ lips.

“Ahuh.”

“Yeah, you aren’t as much of a hardass as many assume,” Jesse explains. “You give off those asshole vibes, quite potently.”

“Potently, huh?”

“I got an expandin’ vocabulary, don’t sound so surprised.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I’m just not an asshole to you and the rest of Blackwatch.”

“Oh no, you are,” Jesse laughed. “Well, maybe you go a little easy on me. But you are. Mega asshole.”

Reyes barked out a laugh. “That’s the first time one of my subordinates have said that to my face.”

“And I’m gonna get props for it, right?”

“Oh, no. I’m firing you.”

Jesse smirked at him through the holoscreen. “You threaten that a lot.”

“I hope that it might get you to stop being so… you.”

“Damn. That one hurt me a bit,” Jesse said, using his “professional” acting skills to sound wounded. “Right in the chest, it got me.”

“Ahuh,” Reyes huffed. He looked down at the files in his hand and then started typing again. “You distract me so much that it’s counterproductive to have you helping me.”

“Aw, but you like the company.”

Reyes sighed, didn’t reply.

Jesse gasped. “That wasn’t a no!”

“It wasn’t. Astute observation, agent,” Reyes rolled his eyes.

Jesse kept looking at Reyes though the screen, even as he got back to work. He spared a few glances, looking for the way he bit his lip when he was concentrating or the way his eyes would narrow. 

“Don’t it hurt starin’ at the screen all day?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“That’s fine.”

“What are you working on right now?”

“Mission reports.”

“From… Moscow,” Jesse asked. That had been their most recent mission. It had only been a four-man, and Jessehad  gone but hung back with Marsh at their temporary base of operations whilst Reyes and Huber dealt with the undercover work and information gathering and assassination.

Jesse and Marsh walked them through the layouts of buildings, warned them of enemies and gathered the information that they heard through them and tossed it to Athena to see if she could spit out more. There had been word of some omnic issues popping up in Russia again, and the Russian government was displeased about it but was hesitant to ask for Overwatch’s help. The U.N. had given them permission, and so this had been a stealth mission. If they were caught, Russia could hypothetically arrest them.

Jesse and Marsh spent most of that mission shivering in an old bunker playing cards and trying to stay warm. Marsh taught Jesse how to play Hearthstone, and was very upset when he found out that Jesse had quite the knack for it. 

“Yeah,” Reyes said. “I’m reviewing evidence that we recorded, trying to make sense of it.”

“I thought we got a bunch.”

“We did, but we need to be able to make connections with absolute certainty before taking any action,” Reyes explained. “Stuff doesn’t add up, and I can’t figure out how it all fits together.”

“Huh. I can take a look at it, if you want.”

“It’s a lot.”

“Send it to me, I’ll read it later tonight.”

Reyes raised an eyebrow. “Alright. I’ll leave this one to you, McCree.”

Jesse smiled. “See, now you don’t gotta worry ‘bout that one.”

“If that’s the case, I’m done for the night,” Reyes sighed. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his eyes, reaching to turn off the holoscreen with his other hand. 

“You want me to leave?”

“Nothing else for you to do. You can get a head start on those files I’ll send you.”

Jesse finished stapling the last few bits of paperwork and then stood. He yawned and stretched his hands over his head. “Alright. G’night, Commander.”

“You too, McCree.”

 

~~~

Jesse stayed up fairly late reading through the files he was sent. There was a lot of it, Reyes wasn’t exaggerating. He knew what he meant about the connection being there too-- it was  _ there  _ but he couldn’t quite figure it out.

He ended finding something at around three in the morning, and he sent a message to Reyes containing his theory. There was a man that had popped up only twice throughout all of the reading, and he seemed innocent enough. The thing was that he knew Huber’s name. From the recording-- you could tell he almost said “Huber” before switching it to something else. As Jesse looked into it more, he found out that that man wasn’t just some stranger. He was the guy running the entire hotel complex that the two of them had been staying at, and doing a bit of digging on the guy himself brought up some suspicious old articles about omnic involvement back during the very beginnings of the crisis.

When Jesse woke up the next morning, Reyes had replied with a “Good work” and nothing else. Jesse found himself just a bit giddy at the praise.

 

~~~

Jesse was sent off on another mission a few days later, just him and Marsh. Andersson was still off duty, it turned out her back injury was more serious than they had thought. They were working on implants to put in her spine to help with it, but she was going to be out of commission for longer than they thought.

Jesse and Marsh traveled to London for a week, familiar terf that was easy enough to traverse. It was a simple mission really, gather information, gain trust, and kill a couple bad guys. There were a few troublemakers who had made themselves known, suspicious figures with ties to the terrorist attack that had happened over two years previous.

Jesse had managed to lure one of the guys into a hotel room with a few drinks and a promise of putting out. They had barely gotten past making out before Jesse had his fingers tight around the man’s throat choking the life out of him. Not one of Jesse’s proudest kills, but it was a kill nonetheless.

Jesse took care of another one whilst Marsh got the last one, using more traditional methods. 

When Jesse got back, he slept for nearly a day, jetlagged to all hell and just a bit too focused on the feeling of someone’s pulse flickering under his fingers. The night after, he’d made the trek to Reyes’ office to help with paperwork and was surprised to see that he wasn’t alone.

In the chair that Jesse normally sat in, a younger girl was perched, turned towards the doorway where he stood. She looked as if she was mid-sentence, and just a bit irritated that she was interrupted.

“Sorry, shoulda asked if you were busy,” Jesse said. 

“It’s alright. This is Fareeha Amari, Captain Amari’s daughter,” Reyes explained, gesturing towards the younger girl. 

As Jesse looked a bit closer, he could easily see the resemblance. In fact, the young girl nearly looked identical to her mother, not just in physical appearance either. Her presence was commanding, emanating an aura of confidence and intimidation. It was damn impressive.

“Nice to meet you, little lady. I’m Jesse McCree,” Jesse introduced himself, smiling as kindly as he could.

She tilted her head, the beads in her hair clinking together. “Are you the cowboy?”

Jesse spluttered. He wasn’t even wearing his hat. “Uh-- I guess? How-”

“They talk about you sometimes.”

“They?”

Fareeha turned back and gestured towards Reyes. “And my mother, you know. They gossip a lot.”

Reyes looked just a bit sheepish at that, and Jesse chuckled. “Didn’t know you were an office gossip.”

“I’m not,” Reyes defended. “Amari just has a way with--”

“That’s not true! You come in there already blabbering about drama before my mother says a word,” Fareeha exclaimed. She looked back towards Jesse. “Don’t believe him. My mother says he is a borderline pathological liar.”

Jesse laughed while Reyes spluttered.

“Your mom says  _ what  _ now?”

“Oh lots,” Fareeha grinned, looking absolutely pleased with herself. She had turned herself more in the chair now, looking at Jesse almost in awe. 

“My mother told me you have very good aim,” she said. “She talks very highly of you. One time when she was drunk, she said she would adopt you if you were not an adult.”

Jesse blinked. “That’s… wow. I gotta talk with this kid more, Commander.”

“She’s only here for the rest of the summer,” Reyes explained. “Amari finally let her come to Headquarters for a visit.”

“It is so nice,” Fareeha exclaimed. “I haven’t seen any violence, I don’t know why she was so worried about my innocence.”

Jesse chuckled. “Alright, well… It was nice meetin’ you, Fareeha. I’ll leave y’all to it, sorry for interrupt--”

“Wait! No! You should stay,” Fareeha said. “I want to know about what it’s like to be a cowboy.”

“Oh. I ain’t really a cowboy,” Jesse said. 

“What are you then?”

“I work for Reyes,” Jesse said, and gestured at his boss. “Super important secret stuff. Really cool. I can’t tell you, or they’ll activate the bomb they implanted in my skull,” Jesse explained.

Fareeha gasped. “They put bombs in your brain?! That’s so cool!”

Reyes sighed and rubbed at his temples. Jesse smirked at Reyes’ vaguely irritated, vaguely amused look. “Come sit down, Jesse. Fareeha was just telling me about how her school is going.”

“It’s going good,” Fareeha said before turning around again to face Reyes. Jesse walked further into the room and sat in the chair next to her’s. “I have straight A’s, and I’m one of the best on my basketball team.”

“Damn, that’s pretty good. How tall are you?”

“Uhm, 5'7". My doctor said I’m not done growing yet, too,” Fareeha said. “My mother is afraid I will be taller than her.”

Jesse whistled. “That’s pretty tall, for uh- how old are you?”

“Fifteen,” she exclaimed proudly. “How old are you? You look really young.”

“Twenty,” Jesse replied, smile faltering just a bit. He was fairly sure he didn’t look  _ that  _ young.

“Really? Huh,” she mumbled to herself. Jesse’s frown deepened and Reyes laughed, most likely at Jesse’s expense.

They talked  for a bit longer, Fareeha excitedly asking questions and then answering Jesse’s. She was very inquisitive, and Jesse almost felt like she was interrogating him. Reyes stood by nearly silent the whole time.

“...So… they are both kinda like my uncles,” Fareeha had finished explaining. She gestured to Reyes and then leaned in closer. “Don’t tell him that I told you, but he is my favorite,” she whispered all too loudly, and then winked.

“Was that supposed to be a secret,” Reyes asked.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she laughed and shook her head. “So, Uncle Gabe! What movie are we watching tonight?”

“Whatever you want, kid. I have all of them.”

Fareeha gasped. “Can we watch a scary movie? A new one just came out and I really really  _ really  _ wanted to see it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Reyes smiled.

Fareeha turned to Jesse. “Do you want to watch too?”

Jesse blinked. “Oh-- I don’t really… uh.” He glanced at Reyes, who offered him a shrug which was  _ not  _ helpful.

“I don’t have the cash to go, right now,” Jesse replied. 

“Oh, we aren’t going to the theaters. We were just going to pirate it in Uncle Gabe’s room,” Fareeha explained. “He already bought the candy and popcorn and everything.”

“Well, ain’t this a sorta uh-- I don’t wanna intrude.”

“I just asked you if you wanted to come, how would that be intruding,” she asked. She then smiled deviously. “Are you scared of horror movies? Is that why you don’t want to watch?”

“No, oh no,” Jesse shook his head. He hadn’t ever seen a horror movie, he was fairly sure, but he was  _ very _ sure that that wasn’t the reason.”I just--”

“Ahuh,” she said, and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked back at Reyes. “I didn’t know that Overwatch hired scared-y cats.”

“I ain’t scared of some stupid movie,” Jesse said. He looked at Reyes who looked unconvinced. “I ain’t!”

“Watch it with us then, McCree,” Reyes said. He smirked.

 

~~~

Jesse didn’t think he’d ever find himself in Commander Reyes’ personal quarters. He had imagined it, sure, once or twice-- but that wasn’t in the  _ realistic  _ sense. 

He had run back to his quarters to get his hat because Fareeha had wanted to see it, before making his way through the halls. He’d only ever been this way one other time, and that was to have tea with Captain Amari. 

Fareeha answered the door when he knocked, and her eyes widened at the sight of his hat. “Wow! Do you wear that on missions?”

Jesse scoffed. “Oh, hell no. Reyes would’ve beat me if I tried, and I did.”

Fareeha laughed and stepped to the side so he could walk in.

Reyes’ quarters, unlike his office, was far more decorated. It was nowhere near the level of Captain Amari’s quarters, but it did have a personal touch. The layout was a mirror of hers, with a small kitchen and a living room right next to it. 

Reyes was in the kitchen, the faint sound of popcorn popping could be heard. 

Fareeha lead him over to the couch in front of a  _ huge  _ holoscreen. She was beaming from ear to ear, blabbering this whole time about the movie and about how excited she was.

She sat down in the middle of the couch and Jesse sat to the right of her, pressed up against the arm of the sofa. There was a small coffee table in front of them, candy and snacks and drinks already laid out for them.

“What’s your favorite candy, Jesse?”

“I don’t really have one,” Jesse shrugged. “These all look great, though.”

“My favorite are Starbursts, but I like pretty much everything else too. Uncle Gabe likes chocolate a lot,” she explained. “You can take some from everything except for the Starbursts and the Kit Kats.”

“Are Kit Kats Reyes’ most favorite?”

“Yup,” she said. “He almost killed me once over a single Kit Kat. Not a whole bar, but a  _ singular  _ little rectangle.” She gestured with her hands to show just how miniscule the piece of candy was.

They talked for a while whilst Reyes got the popcorn ready in the kitchen. Jesse was explaining the basic plots of some of his favorite old westerns to Fareeha when he returned, a huge bowl of freshly popped popcorn in hand.

They settled in for the movie, which turned out to be fucking terrifying. Jesse jumped at nearly every little squeak, and was hiding behind a pillow by the end of it. He was getting  _ mocked  _ for it the whole entire time, and whenever he tried to defend himself it only made it worse. By the end of it, Fareeha and Reyes were paying more attention to  _ his  _ reactions than the movie, which he only realized when he glanced over and saw both of their gazes glued onto him.

The both of them claimed that the movie wasn’t  _ that _ scary, whilst Jesse profusely disagreed. 

“Maybe it was because we were laughing at you the whole time,” Fareeha suggested. “Stop being so scared and we might be able to get immersed in the movie.”

So, the next movie the started, and Jesse made an effort to stay quiet. Fareeha, for her part,  _ did  _ keep her eyes on the movie. Turned out that she got just as scared as he did, especially in the scene where the monster started crawling out of the closet all contorted. By the end of it, she was holding a pillow up to her face too.

Jesse couldn’t help but notice that Reyes’ gaze lingered just a bit more, however. Jesse felt his eyes on him nearly the whole time. He could never catch Reyes in the act though, which was frustrating as all hell. 

After the second movie, they decided to call it a night. Jesse and Fareeha animatedly discussed the movie while putting very little effort into helping with the cleanup. 

“I can’t believe she was dreaming,” Jesse had said. “And that she had been in the asylum--”

“Believe it or not, common theme in horror movies. I didn’t expect it with this one, though. The little boy did a very good job.” 

“Yeah! And that monster! Jesus Christ, nearly had a heart attack when it started chasin’ her through the tunnel.”

“Eugh! And the way it moved! You could hear all of its joints cracking!”

“I ain’t sleepin’ tonight,” Jesse laughed.

“Me neither,” Fareeha agreed, though she sounded far more thrilled about the prospect. “You should come watch movies with us again, it was really fun!”

Fareeha looked over at Reyes, who had been dumping candy wrappers in the trash. “Can he, Uncle Gabe?”

Reyes looked between Jesse and Fareeha for a few moments. “Yeah, I guess. Only if he reacts the way he did with the nun in the mirror all the time.”

Fareeha beamed and started talking again, but Jesse missed her first couple sentences. He was too caught up on the way Reyes’ gaze lingered.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy I'm back. Go talk to me on tumblr (smolcactusgay) i'm lonely. I hope y'all like this chapter. Jesse and Gabriel are about to get a shit ton of alone time ;) (ALSO please excuse error i am still lacking a beta reader)

“Oh. Hello, Jesse. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“He’s teaching me how to cheat at poker,” Fareeha explained, her concentrated gaze focused on the cards in her hands. 

Jesse looked at Captain Amari and smiled. She smiled back, despite the tsking noise she made.

“I disapprove of all cheating the two of you get up to.”

“You say that, until I become a billionaire because of all the money I scammed outta suckers who I played poker with,” Fareeha exclaimed. She had her hair tied back in a short ponytail, her teeth chomping on straw that had previously been in her lemonade.

Amari chuckled. She started going through the cabinets in the kitchen, pulling out various boxes and utensils. “Well, you have quite a ways to go. Why don’t you work on your poker face first?”

“My what?”

Jesse barked out a laugh. “Your mom’s gotta point. Why don’t I teach you how to play regular poker first, little miss?”

“I know how to play poker,” she exclaimed. “I learned at school! I won a piece of gum and two erasers, once.”

Jesse laughed and put down his cards. 

“Jesse, are you staying for dinner?”

“Oh, I wasn’t plannin’ on it. Wouldn’t wanna burden you, Cap’n.”

“Nonsense,” she huffed. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail at the base of her neck before she got to filling a pan with water. “I doubt they are making anything better in the Blackwatch Wing.”

“Probably not, everyone that can cook is off on a mission,” Jesse said. “Well, except for Reyes. But he’s in a meeting.” 

“I guess I’ll just have to force him to come have dinner too,” Captain Amari hummed to herself.

“Aw man! I would’ve won,” Fareeha groaned. She had stood up to look at Jesse’s cards, and pulled an ace out of her sleeve.”

Jesse blinked. “Wh- Were you playin’ me?”

Fareeha laughed. “Nope! Definitely not!”

Jesse playfully swatted at her and she shrieked and jumped out of the way just in time. She made a break for the other side of the room, and Jesse stood up from his seat to follow her.

 

~~~

 

“Okay, okay. Old westerns are pretty good.”

Jesse looked over at Fareeha to his left, smiled giddily at her words. “Yeah? You like ‘em?”

“Yeah,” Fareeha nodded. “Like the newer, but old ones. Like with actual female characters.”

“Ah, yeah. Honestly, those ones are far less cheese-y. The older ones got charm though.”

Fareeha stretched her arms over her head and yawned. She was sprawled out on the other end of the couch, propped up on thick pillows. It was late, nearing midnight, but the two of them had been too invested in their movie marathon to be worried about bed.

Earlier in the night they had more company, but as it got late their company got bored and left. He was pleased that Fareeha stuck with him though to watch a few of the movies. 

She sat up slowly to grab the mostly-empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. She started gnawing on the pieces stuck to the kernels, and Jesse gasped as he watched her throw bitten pieces back into the bowl.

“You are disgustin’!”

“Oh please,” Fareeha shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “I saw you pick your nose in Uncle Gabe’s room when he went to the bathroom.”

“Did not.”

Fareeha looked over at him, raised her eyebrow. “Ahuh.” She took a piece of popcorn off another kernel before throwing it back in the bowl, maintaining eye contact as she did so.

“You’re a menace and a disgrace,” Jesse said, trying to keep a stern face even as laughter tried to bubble up at his words.

“I’m really not,” Fareeha laughed. She stuck out her tongue at Jesse and placed the bowl back on the coffee table. She glanced up at the screen where the credits were still running. 

“Honestly, I kinda want a cowboy hat now.”

“I’ll get one for you sometime,” Jesse nodded. “What color you want?”

“Mmm… blue.”

“Blue? Really?”

“Yeah,” Fareeha nodded. “It is my favorite color. You got a problem with that, Jesse?”

She reached over to shove at his feet that were propped up on the coffee table. 

“Not at all, not at all. Jus’... didn’t expect a descendant of Captain Amari to have such bad taste.”

Jesse laughed at the outraged look that spread of Fareeha’s face. His quip was promptly rewarded with a pillow to the face, and Fareeha threatening to tackle him to the floor and beat him up.

He had barely dodged out of the way as she lunged, rolling onto the floor and nearly hitting his head on the leg of the coffee table. She lunged again and caught him this time, kneeling above him, pillow poised and ready to attack. She hit him in the face hard a few times as he struggled to get her off.

“I don’t have bad taste,” she exclaimed between the blows.

Jesse was having trouble pushing her off. She was strong, and he was laughing too hard to actually try.

The two of them were interrupted by Andersson walking into the den area and promptly telling them to shut the fuck up.

Fareeha looked up at her and pouted. “He deserved it. He insulted my taste.”

“Beat him up  _ quietly  _ then,” Andersson said. Jesse could see in her tight lipped smile that she was just slightly irritated. She wasn’t used to kids, had admitted to Jesse that she got nervous whenever Fareeha hung around for that reason.

“Alright, alright. Fareeha, get off. You should go back to your mom before she gets worried bout’cha.”

“She knows I’m with you.”

“She probably didn’t want you stayin’ up so late.”

“It’s like… only midnight,” she huffed. She got up off of Jesse and offered him a hand to help him up. She tossed the pillow back on the couch and sighed.

“Alright, alright. I’m going. Thanks for the movies, Jesse.”

“No problem, little miss.”

Fareeha nodded to both him and Andersson before moving past them towards the exit. Andersson and Jesse stood quietly until they heard the door swish open and shut. 

“I’m… honestly surprised that you are good with young people.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, like… good ones, y’know?”

“What, cuz I was such a bad one?”

“Yeah,” Andersson nodded. She shoved at him slightly, smiled. “C’mon, I’m just kidding. It’s just-- she really likes you. Follows you around like a puppy.”

“Well, if everyone else is busy, I don’t mind hangin’ out with her. She likes to hang around Reinhardt and Gabe, but those two are busy a lot.”

Andersson nodded. She reached up to ruffle Jesse’s hair. “You need another haircut.”

Jesse pushed her hand away. “Leave my beautiful hair alone.”

“Just a few inches.”

“No,” Jesse shook his head. 

“You’re too stubborn.”   


“So are you,” Jesse smirked. 

He moved to pick up the bowl of popcorn and various candy wrappers leftover from his movie marathon with Fareeha. He moved into the kitchen to dispose of them, placing the bowl into the sink once it was empty.

“We’re still leavin’ tomorrow afternoon for the mission right?”

“Not me,” Andersson shook her head. “My backs still… not the best. You, Reyes, and Huber though- yep. Leaving me bored and alone back at base.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Jesse scoffed. “You got Marsh and Marnie and the rest of fuckin’ Blackwatch.”

“They’re boring.”

“I’m tellin’ Marnie you said that,” Jesse warned. 

Andersson moved closer to join him in the kitchen. She leaned up against one of the counters and sighed deeply.

“I heard you and Reyes have been doing paperwork together.”

“Don’t like that tone of voice you’re usin’,” Jesse said with a huff. He leaned against the opposite counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s stressed. I’m helpin’ him out.”

“The movie nights?”

“Fareeha invited me-”

“And he  _ let  _ you.” 

Jesse shrugged. “We’re like uh-  _ friends  _ I guess. I dunno.” He scratched at his chin. That didn’t quite sound right either as he said it. He didn’t feel like he knew enough about Reyes to be a friend, and vice versa. 

He was still confused about how Reyes had been acting lately. He didn’t necessarily treat Jesse any differently than normal. They teased, they were friendly- they always had been. Missions were as normal as ever, Jesse definitely wasn’t getting any special treatment in that respect. It was the  _ stares  _ that were getting to Jesse, the occasional touches and close proximity. It was making his mind feel wonky. Then again, he probably was not functioning properly at all if he was blowing something as meaningless as Gabe looking at him out of proportion. 

Andersson tilted her head and nodded. Jesse could tell she wasn’t quite convinced, though she didn’t press more.

She moved away from the counter and towards Jesse. She looked up at him and sighed, offered a smile. 

“Be careful on the mission tomorrow, alright cowboy?”

The words were soft and vulnerable, voicing a general concern that had Jesse’s stomach churning in knots. Before he could reply, could figure out a way to break the tension, Andersson was wrapping her arms around him.

“I always come back in one piece, don’t I?”

Andersson laughed against his chest, the vibrations tickling his skin through his shirt.

“Kind of,” she sighed. 

Jesse wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her closer. 

“I was worried ‘bout you,” Jesse mumbled quietly. Andersson hugged him tighter in response.

 

~~~

 

It was apparent from the beginning that this mission would be one of the nasty ones. Reyes said there was no estimation on how long they would need to be out in the depths of Ukraine before they found their target, which meant that the mission could stretch on for months. Their target was a high profile one, an older man who had been very well acquainted with omnic smuggling and illegal omnic fights. He went by the name of Jeremiah Lokrenzy, an alias that did not match with anything Overwatch had on file. He was an older, plump man, greying at his temples and balding on the back of his head.

It was search and arrest mission, without any assigned undercover positions. 

Huber explained it was akin to improv, having different names in different places and building up that relationship with people so they spilled. Luckily, Jesse’s acting had been greatly improved since the surprise undercover mission in Cuba. He’d been trained properly and thoroughly by Huber, and to some extent Reyes.

They checked into a tiny, dusty motel between a regularly frequented city and a tiny village that rarely had any visitors. It was expected that their target goes between both, hiding away in the smaller village only to emerge and show off his lavish lifestyle and wares in the big city. 

Out of the motel’s four rooms, only two were vacant, which the three of them settled for.

The first night, Jesse wasn’t able to get much sleep. He was rooming with Huber, because that was the only room with two beds and it was unanimously agreed that Reyes got a room to himself. 

Huber wasn’t a bad roommate, in fact, he was just the opposite. He’d bought Jesse candy from one of the vending machines, let him pick what he wanted to watch on the old shitty television set. The only thing about him was that he snored like a bear and went to bed far earlier than Jesse would ever be able to.

The snoring, along with Jesse’s recent inability to sleep, led to a restless night of tossing and turning.That first time he estimated he could about four hours of interrupted sleep. 

He didn’t complain as he got ready at dawn that next morning, washing his face in the cracked mirror and getting dressed. He bundled up in warm, casual clothing, a fluffy hoodie and some black skinny jeans Andersson had convinced him to purchase a month or so back. He covered his ears with a beanie, and when he stepped out of the bathroom he saw that Huber and Reyes were already there waiting for him.

They didn’t comment on the deep bags under his eyes, or the way he slammed the mug of coffee Huber had handed to him. The plan for the first day was simple, split up in the big city and make their presences known. Act like tourists, introduce themselves to baristas and waiters. 

Overall, the day was slow. It started to drizzle around noon, and Jesse felt miserable and sticky as he met up with Huber for lunch. Huber knew the area well and had brought them to a nice little diner in the middle of the city. He ordered for the both of them and assured Jesse that the food was great.

“How’s it going on your end?”

Jesse shrugged. “People seem nice, not too suspicious. Flirtin’ with the whole town is a little fun, gotta admit.”

Huber chuckled. “Yeah, that’s why I suggested you stick to the coffee joints y’know, where the young people are at.”

“What? So I can seduce them?”

“You’re good at it,” Huber said. He then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I mean, that last mission with Marsh? Fantastic.” 

Jesse flushed at the thought of that. “Y’think?” He hadn’t really pegged it as something that was “fantastic.” It was seducing and then murdering, he hadn’t even considered it until Marsh suggested it. 

“Yeah. Normally on undercover missions, it’s Andersson doing things like that. You know, because she’s young and hot and distracting,” Huber hummed. “You have that southern American charm shit, it works the same way.” 

Jesse huffed and took a sip of his water. He thought it tasted different in every country he’s been to. 

“I suppose.”

They left the diner together and headed back to the motel. They played cards until Reyes returned a few hours later. They went over any information they gathered, with was none because today was their first day.

“It seems slow here. I think we’ll want to wait before any deep probing,” Huber said. “If there’s really some bad shit going on, people will get suspicious and report at the tiniest little thing.”

“I agree,” Reyes nodded. He was leaning against the wall by the door of their room. He had taken off his beanie, it was soaked through with rain. The curls of his hair were plastered to his forehead, dark and shining with the light from the television. Jesse was trying not to stare.

Reyes left a bit later, said that they would head into the city around noon tomorrow. Jesse was again stuck with Huber’s snoring, and again got very little sleep. Whenever he managed to get a bit of shut eye it was plagued with strange nightmares, offputting and worrying and always keeping him up.

They did much of the same for the next week, splitting their time between the smaller village and the larger city. Reyes stuck to the village for the most part, while Jesse and Huber dealt with the city. 

Reyes said the village was filled with older people, locals that were displeased with how the world was changing and happy to complain. In the city, Jesse and Huber’s work was a bit harder, but they were able to make friends easily.

Jesse had been working with a promising girl at this coffee shop. Her name was Aleksandra and  she was a barista, working part time while she studied at a nearby school. She looked flustered anytime Jesse spoke to her, anytime he smiled. 

His Ukrainian wasn’t the best, though it was improving while he was there. She had giggled at his accent, was patient when he fumbled through the words as long as he paid her with compliments.

“You like it around here?” He asked her during one of their coffee dates.

Today she had her long blonde hair braided back. She looked up from her coffee and nodded, then shrugged.

“I mean, I would like to leave one day. See the rest of the world.” 

“That’s to be expected. I mean, one of the reasons I’m here.”

“Traveling is expensive, though,” she said a bit morosely.

“It is,” Jesse conceded. “But, when you get the money. I say it’s worth it. It’s fascinating to see other parts of the world.”

“I study history and geography, so I would love to actually  _ see  _ what I have been reading,” she laughed. “Where have you been?”

“Well, United States. Mostly down south. South America, Northern Europe. This is my first time going east,” Jesse said, which was sort of a lie. He’d been as far as Russia before for his missions. 

“How do you like it?”

“The weather is cold,” Jesse laughed, and she laughed too. 

“Have you been further into the city?”

“Not yet,” Jesse shook his head.

She nodded. “Well, if you do, stay away from the northern chunk of the city. You will know it when you see it, it gets real fancy and expensive. Bad stuff goes on up there.”

Jesse raised an eyebrow. He leaned closer. “Don’t the police do anything about it?”

She hesitated, smiled awkwardly. She ran her fingers through her brown hair as her gaze drifted towards her coffee cup. “Well, I mean, they’re supposed to.”

Jesse nodded. “I will keep that in mind.”

 

~~~

 

“So, up North is where all the casinos and shit is at, right?”

“Yeah, it’s essentially a Ukrainian Las Vegas,” Huber explained. “I went once when I was younger.”

“How’d that go,” Jesse asked. 

Huber pursed his lips. “I never gambled again.”

As Jesse broke out into laughter, Reyes seemed far less amused. His lips were pulled into a tight line, and he was staring down at the table as if considering something.

“How long ago was that?”

Huber let out a huff and leaned back in his chair and let his arms cross over his chest. “Eight, nine years? I was a kid practically. McCree’s age.” 

“I ain’t a kid,” Jesse protested, which got a laugh from Huber.

“You wear a fucking cowboy hat, McCree.”

“That got nothin’ to do with my age.”

“Both of you shut the fuck up. We’re on mission. No messing around,” Reyes snapped. 

Huber, who had been leaning against the table ready to retort promptly shut his mouth and sat back in his chair. He glanced at Jesse and gave him a look of surprise and seemed to convey “what crawled up his ass?” and Jesse shrugged in response.

“We’ve been here a week and barely have anything steady to go off of,” Reyes said. “We don’t know this guy’s playground, we don’t know how he works.”

“We could go poke around up north,” Jesse hummed. “Rent some nice clothes or somethin’.”

Reyes shook his head. “Too soon. We have to probe deeper.”

“I could get involved with shadier shit, see what I can come up with,” Huber offered. “I know a place that drug dealers frequent, might have some more insights into the trouble up north.

“That might work.”

The three of them had finished their meals for the most part. Jesse was still picking at his fries, trying to savor the crunchy texture. He ran his fingers through his hair, getting his fingers stuck midway as he listened to Reyes and Huber discussing their next moves. He really needed to brush his hair more. 

They were tucked into a tiny circular table under the only window in Jesse and Huber’s room. The rain had stopped a few hours ago, leaving an unpleasant wet chill lingering outside. There were only two chairs provided, so they had to pull up one of the ottomans to sit on. 

Jesse glanced up and watched the way Reyes moved curiously. He looked frustrated, more so than usual. In these sort of missions, Reyes was usually able to thrive without the pressure of paperwork and the U.N. breathing down his neck. Jesse wondered why he was so upset. 

It was nearing midnight when Huber finally removed himself from the table. He said he wanted to take a warm bath, and would come up with a plan to go speak with the people in more unsavory situations. He left Reyes and Jesse alone.

“ _ Have you been sleeping alright, McCree _ ?” He spoke in a quieter tone of voice, mindful of the thin walls. 

Jesse blinked at the sudden question, pausing with a french fry hanging from his lips. They hadn’t had a conversation like this in a while, not since the rooftop, but even that wasn’t in Spanish. Reyes had explained to him that he used Spanish when they weren’t completely alone, when anyone could overhear. It was just for  _ them,  _ and it was special and made Jesse’s chest feel tight.

“ _ Yes,”  _ Jesse lied, and he watched Reyes roll his eyes.

“ _ You are terrible at lying to me.” _

Jesse sighed. “ _ It is not a big deal. It’s just hard for me to sleep sometimes." _

“ _ You had trouble sleeping when you first got to HQ. I thought the problem went away.” _

“ _ I mean, as much as it can,”  _ Jesse said. “ _ It’s not for the reasons you are thinking, I think.” _

Reyes didn’t look convinced, though he didn’t press. “ _ Alright, what are your reasons then, McCree?” _

“ _ Huber snores, that’s all.” _

Reyes barked out a laugh. “ _ Forgot about that.” _

Jesse smiled at the sound. “ _ You don’t look all that good right now, Boss.” _

Reyes’ smile faded and he sighed. “ _ I’m fine.” _

_ “Something up?” _

_ “Nothing to worry about,”  _ Reyes reassured him, though it was without any sort of smile or sign of everything being okay. It made Jesse’s stomach churn uncomfortably, but he didn’t press any further. 

 

~~~

 

A few hours later, Jesse’s comm pinged. It was late, a glance at the clock put the time at three in the morning. He yawned and sat up, rubbing at his eyes as he reached for his comm. He glanced at the message waiting there, brow furrowed.

_ Commander G. Reyes: 03:14:32: Are you awake? _

Jesse hesitated, then typed his reply.

_ Agent J. McCree: 03:15:01: Yeah _

_ Commander G. Reyes: 03:15:17: Come sleep in my room. It’s quiet. _

Jesse wasn’t sure what he expected Reyes to type, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. His mind was immediately flooded with both inappropriate and worrying images. Immediately his stomach was churning, butterflies filling his chest and threatening to explode. Despite his concern, he found himself slipping on his shoes and walking out into the rain.

He hadn’t thought about putting on a jacket as he stepped outside and closed the door to his shared room. He realized it was too late as the door clicked shut, since he didn’t think to bring his key with him. 

He trudged under the overhang towards Reyes’ room a few doors down. It was freezing, and apparently the overhang didn’t help all that much since it was windy. The rain was still hitting the bottom of his legs, and he wrapped his arms around himself in effort to keep warm.

He knocked on the door despite his apprehension, too cold to care about what exactly he was doing.

The door clicked and swung open to reveal Reyes, dressed in sweats and nothing else and Jesse felt his face flush. He promptly shifted his gaze to his commander’s face, refusing to look at him anywhere below the shoulders.

Reyes stepped to the side and opened the door wider, inviting Jesse in wordlessly.

Reyes’ room wasn’t nearly as warm as Jesse and Huber’s. The bed sheets were pushed back on the left side, and that same pillow was squished in a way that suggested someone had been sleeping there. 

The only light in the room came from the bathroom where the door remained open just a crack. As Jesse stepped in further, he noticed the tablet laid out on Reyes’ bed and the various stacks of paper strewn about.

Jesse glanced back and him and raised an eyebrow. “Late night paperwork?”

Reyes nodded. “If I can’t sleep, I figure I should do something productive.”

“Normally you choose not to sleep,” Jesse said.

“Well, lately I haven’t really needed to choose to do that since I have help with my paperwork.”

Jesse bit his lip to try and hold back a prideful smile. It didn’t help much. 

Reyes sighed. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Listen, I don’t really know what I was thinking inviting you in. But, I figured it’s quiet in here so you can sleep.”

Jesse nodded. He glanced around the room and frowned. “I appreciate that, boss. But uh- there don’t seem to be any couches or…”

Jesse trailed off as it became apparent that Reyes wasn’t really listening. The man was already walking over to his bed, getting under the covers and pulling them up to his lap. He was laying back against the scratched up headboard, holding his tablet so it was angled towards his face.

The tablet flickered to life and the light illuminated his chest and the bottom of his chin. Reyes glanced down and started tapping away at things, then raised his head and looked at Jesse pointedly.

Jesse took a deep breath, realized that even if he wanted to say no (even if he should), it would somehow be better to just accept his fate. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest as he slowly ambled towards the other side of the bed. He slipped out of his shoes and glanced up at Reyes, as if waiting for him to kick Jesse out. He didn’t, he was now absorbed in whatever he was reading.

Jesse lifted the covers and slowly got into the bed on the other side. The bed was larger than the two supplied in the other room, but it was barely a Queen and definitely didn’t leave much room for two fully-grown men to stretch out. 

He tried to stay on the very edge of the mattress, aware of how centrally Reyes was laying and how their elbows would brush if he shifted over even the tiniest bits.

Jesse laid on his side, facing away from Reyes and instead towards the bathroom door. The light was dim but still hard to stare at. When he closed his eyes, it didn’t quite block it out, which was annoying. He refused to turn over onto his other side though, didn’t know if he should face Reyes.

He was beyond worried about somehow messing this up, about crossing imaginary boundaries that he assumed were in place. Reyes didn’t seem all that concerned about boundaries at the moment, what with inviting an agent to sleep in his bed.

Jesse wanted to ask so many questions. A small part of his mind wanted to ask why Reyes was staring all the time, why he let Jesse sleep in his bed and watch movies with him and his niece. 

It was about twenty minutes into relative silence that Reyes cleared his throat.

“You know, you should at least  _ try  _ to sleep.”

Jesse hadn’t even attempted to close his eyes. He was too hyper-aware of every shift that Reyes made behind him.

“I am,” Jesse muttered, hoping he sounded even the slightest bit convincing.

“You’re tense,” Reyes said. “And shivering.”

It  _ was  _ cold in the room. He’d read that the weather in Ukraine could be absolutely freezing, and Jesse was srprised at the lack of thick blankets the motel provided. He was only dressed in a tank top and a thin pair of pajama pants, and even with the blanket pulled up to his chin he was cold. That probably didn’t help with all of the other shit he was worrying about.

“It’s cold,” Jesse said. “I get cold easy.”

“There’s something else,” Reyes said, quieter, almost like a sigh. Jesse listened to the bed creak as Reyes moved behind him, heard the quiet thunk of his tablet being placed on the bedside table.

Jesse held his breath as the felt the mattress shift behind him, as he felt Reyes get  _ closer.  _

He felt Reyes’ hand brush against his shoulder lightly, as if he was still deciding whether he wanted to touch him or not. His hand was  _ hot  _ against his shoulder, almost feverish.

“Your shoulder is freezing.”

“Your hand is hot,” Jesse retorted.

“I can turn up the heater-”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

He heard Reyes sigh, and there was a long minute of silence.

“Don’t lay on the edge of the bed. If you fall off and break your skull open, you’re fucked,” Reyes said. His voice didn’t waver, he said it so matter-of-factly and normally that Jesse was finally able to breathe again. 

Jesse chuckled. “I’m tryin’ to give you your space.”

“The mattress is two inches wide, Jesse. We might need to brush shoulders if you want to sleep comfortably.”

Jesse swallowed, didn’t know how to reply. He didn’t need to, apparently, because Reyes kept talking.

“I’m sorry.” 

The apology was sudden, seemingly out of nowhere.

“I’m realizing that this was inappropriate and a lot and if you are uncomfortable you should leave. Better yet, I’ll go replace you on the other bed-”

“No,” Jesse exclaimed, under his breath but suddenly. He wasn’t even sure if he really meant to say it, what he was objecting to. 

“No?”

“It’s not… I ain’t uncomfortable.”

“Then why-”

“I’m nervous,” Jesse interrupted. What followed after was essentially word-vomit that Jesse very quickly regretted.  “I mean- I’m literally layin’ in my fuckin’ Commander’s bed. And he’s half fuckin’ naked. And actin’ all sweet and nice and shit and- I think anyone in my position would be a lil’ bit nervous and a lil’ bit confused.”

Jesse realized after a few beats of silence that what he had said wasn’t exactly…  _ subtle.  _ Sure he tacked on the part at the end, as if it justified everything in a way that wouldn’t make his feelings  _ obvious. _

The silence that followed was deafening, Jesse would’ve preferred the snoring. He could imagine the look on Reyes’ face as he put everything together, as he sifted through the bullshit (because apparently he could read Jesse incredibly well) and realized what had been going on. Jesse was trying not to imagine the look of disgust Reyes was surely sporting, was trying not to imagine how it would hurt when Reyes told him to get out of his bed.

“I think,” was what came from Reyes’ mouth instead. It cut through the silence, warm and calm and  _ not  _ disgusted. “I think that, most in your position wouldn’t have even gotten into the bed, McCree.”

“Listen-” Jesse started. His mind was desperately searching for an excuse, any little thing that might ease the awkwardness and the shittiness of the whole situation. His face was flushed, he could feel his cheeks burning.

Jesse’s words fell apart as a warm hand wrapped around his waist. His breath hitched, his body going rigid. His tank-top had ridden up and he could feel Reyes’ fingers against his skin. 

“You can tell me to stop,” Reyes said gently as the hand at Jesse’s waist shifted to an arm around him. Jesse was pulled across the bed until his back hit Reyes’ form, solid and warm behind him.

He swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry and filled with his lungs. 

He felt Reyes settle behind him, felt his body move to conform around his. Jesse felt hot breath at his neck. Reyes moved his arm briefly to brush Jesse’s hair out of the way before putting his arm back where it was, effectively a very strong seatbelt that held Jesse close.

Jesse didn’t dare voice any complaints. His body was setting off fireworks internally, his belly filled with the biggest most aggressive butterflies he’d ever felt. 

“Is this alright?” His voice felt hot against his neck. 

“Yeah,” Jesse breathed out, and with that breath all of the tension in his body dispersed. 

Silence once again fell over them, filled with the deep breaths coming from right behind him. He could feel Reyes’ chest against his back, could feel  _ all  _ of him. It was wonderful and Jesse did not know what he did to deserve this feeling.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep quickly. His subconscious didn’t bother supplying him with any nightmares.

  
~~~

 

The bags under Jesse’s eyes disappeared mysteriously overnight. He woke up to the smell of coffee and something sweet, to the sound of the door unlocking and heavy boots stepping into the room.

He sat up and rubbed the sleep of his eyes. Reyes stood right inside the door, toeing off his sneakers whilst holding a carrier with three cups of coffee in one hand and a box of donuts in the other. He was dressed casually, a navy blue hoodie and the same sweats he had worn to bed.

He smiled at the sight of Jesse.

“Your hair looks like a birds nest,” he teased.

Jesse frowned. This as the deepest sleep he’d had in awhile, and he felt groggier than usual. He desperately wanted to curl back into the warm sheets, press his face into the pillow where Reyes’ scent lingered. Better yet, have Reyes join him. The brief fantasy was mildly terrifying, and he willed any blush that showed on his cheeks to go away.

“Fuck off.” 

Huber joined them soon after. They discussed Huber’s plans for today, to get another motel deeper in the city on the shadier side and look for some shady people to hang around. He was good with accents, his mother was from Ukraine so he had the look of a local. 

Jesse was perched on the edge of the bed besides Reyes. He quietly ate his donut and offered his input when needed, though for the most part he stayed quiet. His mind kept lingering back to the night previous, to the warmth at his back and the arms holding him close. It didn’t help that Reyes was currently sitting beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

“If anyone gets suspicious, you’re going to have to get out fast. Don’t try to wait it out. If this place is as corrupt as it seems, we really don’t know how they’ll react to an outsider pretending to be one of them,” Reyes told him sternly. 

“I know, Commander,” Huber nodded. He was standing in front of Jesse, shifting from foot to foot. “What will you two be doing?”

“McCree and I will go to the smaller village,” Reyes said. He glanced over at Jesse as if he wanted his input

“I’m alright with that,” Jesse nodded. “I’m honestly at a loss for this shit. Y’all are the experienced ones.” 

“If you listened you would know what was going on,” Huber teased, and Jesse kicked out at him.

“Fuck off. Try not to snore like a bear in front of the drug dealers. You’ll scare ‘em off.”

Huber laughed lightly. He nodded to both of them before leaving, slinging one duffle bag over his shoulder before making his way out into the light drizzle.

Reyes stood as he left, ran his fingers through his hair and sighed through his nose. He looked down at Jesse and had the gall to smile in a way that made Jesse’s heart thump dangerously.

“Alright, vaquero. Let’s see what we can do in the village.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyy my tumblr is smolcactusgay

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr! My NEW blog is smolcactusgay !!!


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